Luck Takes a Turn
by bathedinblood
Summary: RDR2 spoilers! In the final hours of his life, one more good deed rewards Arthur Morgan with a second chance he never thought he would have. Now, burdened by a promise and thrown into an unknown world, Arthur must show everyone that he isn't down for the count yet. Now if only he could get this tiger off of his back...
1. Chapter 1

This is a bad idea. Two totally incompatible series. I always did like a challenge though. Theme for this fic is _The River_ by **Blues Saraceno**.

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_ Dutch has finally lost his ever lovin' mind. Storming around most days, ranting and raving at the nearest person like all the troubles we'd been through lately are their fault. I don't see the man that raised me, the Dutch that had run with Hosea and me for years. I know he's still in there; every now and then I see him stop and tremble, like he don't know what to do with himself. But soon, this new mad determination takes over, and he gets that feral look in his eye again. One second, he's preaching about how anyone who follows him will be rich and free, same as he always has. The next, he's jumping at shadows and screaming traitor at the first person that looks at him funny._

_ All except Micah. That slippery sumbitch was lounging around camp like a fat cat, and even with our recent losses saw no reason to lift a finger. Sure, he'd leave camp with Dutch, or maybe go alone to score some quick cash, but never for long. He was Dutch's shadow since before the bank heist in Saint Denis. The heist that got so many of us killed or captured. Hosea, shot in the street like some cur. Lenny, ambushed with shotguns before I could lift a finger to save him. John is stuck in prison somewhere, that poor fool. We've lost so many since Blackwater, and I fear I'm the next in line._

_ Dr. Strauss, the leech that he is, got me going after some debts a few months back. It was something we'd done plenty of times, despite how distasteful it is. Go out into town and find somebody down on their luck, the type that would do anything to escape the predicament they're in. Loan them some money, on the condition that they pay some ungodly rates, and wait for them to come up short. When Strauss got his first sign of weakness, he sent me in. I'd rough up the borrower, wreck their place, terrorize and threaten and do whatever it took to get the debt covered. I never liked it, but it brought in money when the gang needed it. Until last week, I considered it necessary._

_ Anyway, one of the marks was a man of strong spirit, but weak body. Thomas Downes. When I first met him, I thought he was another slimy weasel trying to duck his debt. Now, though... I know it's shallow to say things about the dead, but I've come to respect him. Weak and sickly, he still had the courage to step between me and another idiot in the middle of a bar fight in Valentine. When I came knocking, he begged and pleaded with me as they all did, with his wife and boy watching. I knocked him around, watched him hack and cough blood. At first, I thought it was from the teeth I'd knocked loose, but now I know better. I left that day with money and eyes glaring into my back, covered in Downes' blood. I learned later that he'd died, and I will admit that I did not feel as bad as I should have. At the time, I considered it just one of life's great tragedies._

_ Thomas Downes had Tuberculosis. Thanks to the blood he spit in my face while I was smacking him all around that farm and the months I spent without treatment, I now have Tuberculosis. The doctor told me I was dying the same way I'd tell a fella his fly was down. It's kinda funny, in a way. Downes had no way of fighting me, but he hurt me far better than I could have hurt him. I found his widow and son in Annesburg a few days ago, forced into poverty thanks to Dr. Strauss and myself. Mrs. Downes had been reduced to whoring herself out, and her boy was working extra shifts in the town's coal mine. Had I not stepped in, he'd have been hacking like his late father by the end of the month._

_ As for why... it's funny, what death does to a man. I know there was no stopping it, no way of curing it for an outlaw like me. And after I faced what I had done to Downes and his family, it tore me up inside. If I'd been man enough to tell Strauss to go fly a kite, that family would not be in the misery they were in. So I cleaned them up, handed them a fat stack of cash and told them to move on somewhere. The hate in Mrs. Downes' eyes wasn't quite as bright as it had been when I saw her in Saint Denis. I didn't do it for her forgiveness. Hell, I doubt I'd even respect her if she forgave me after everything. But it felt like I had at least made something right. Not entirely, it would never be enough for a blackened soul like mine, but I did something. When I got to camp, I packed Strauss' bag and threw him out of camp. The German bastard stammered and yelled just like so many debtors I had pounded on his word. The one person who could possibly keep me here on God's earth a little while longer, and I threw him out. Dutch still hasn't said a word, and Strauss was the only one who knew I'm sick._

_ And now, I'm dying._

Arthur Morgan closed his journal with a watery cough, bringing his fist up to keep the flecks of blood from leaving his mouth. If someone else caught the infernal disease because of him, he'd never forgive himself. The coughing fit went on for several seconds, his lungs screaming in agony as he both deprived them of oxygen and spit out their shredded remains. When it finally passed, he spit the bloody remains out of his mouth with a wince and wiped it with his hand. He stood up and stretched to his full height, rolling up his sleeves and looking around the camp.

The Murfree Brood had been right at home here, settled into the caves next to an impressive waterfall. A bunch of backwoods inbred killers, they'd been haunting the forests near Saint Denis and Annesburg long before Arthur, Dutch, and the rest had come around. This particular location had been full of grotesque trophies, mutilated corpses, and cages where they had tortured their victims. Arthur and Charles had killed every Murfree in the cave with extreme prejudice, though it hadn't been very fair. The Murfree Brood had largely been using machetes and the occasional revolver, while Arthur had used a pump shotgun to startling effect. A few dozen bodies later, and Dutch made the caves at Beaver Hollow their new home. Despite all that had happened around the place, it did have a homey feel to it now that the bodies and murderers were gone. Too bad this was the last time Arthur would see it.

He'd made up his mind last night. The coughing was getting worse, and people were starting to notice. Mr. Pearson was bringing him extra portions, saying something about how sailors would fake sickness to get extra rations. Karen had offered him a bottle a few times, before upending it herself as she stumbled by. The worst of it was Jack; the little boy had noticed Arthur down and out and had made every attempt to cheer him up. Arthur had been firm and sometimes even a little harsh when he sent the boy away, though it pained him to do it. But the look of hurt in the boy's eyes was a price he'd gladly pay if it meant he wouldn't catch this infernal disease.

Arthur grabbed a few outfits and some ammunition for his shotgun and bolt action rifle, leaving the rest behind. He planned on doing some good before he died, but the rest of the camp needed weapons to defend themselves. He had a couple of vests made from that massive bull alligator he had slain weeks ago, as well as a hat or two and some boots. For colder weather, a shotgun coat lined with wolf fur and some gloves made from elk and rabbit fur went into the bag as well. His journal, the pen given to him by Jimmy Brooks, the emerald from Mr. Margaret, and the Reutlinger watch they had stolen from the river boat heist all went in as well. These things were from when he had done some good in the world, whether it be saving a man or cutting down a monster. The letter from Mary, the last thing she had sent him since he'd said goodbye, he folded carefully and tucked inside of his vest close to his heart. His white gator hat went on his head, and he brushed off his gunmetal gray slacks. His black collared over shirt cinched under his chin, along with a red tie. His hair was styled to be slicked back, but it was still pretty short. If he was saying goodbye, he was gonna make sure he looked his best.

He reached out for his old gambler's hat, the one he'd worn since Blackwater. As old and traveled as it was, there were several holes and a lifetime of stains that marred it. Each blemish was a story, and stories deserved to be told. With a heavy sigh, Arthur set his old hat down on his cot, the letter explaining his condition hidden within it. Pearson or Javier would find it, surely. It was kinder this way.

Another wave of debilitating coughs wracked him, doubling him over as he hacked and sputtered. The powerless feeling he got as the disease briefly took control of his body away from him was not a new one, but it was no less infuriating in its familiarity. He was Arthur goddamn Morgan, killer of men and free outlaw of the West, only to be brought down by a hacking cough.

"Could be worse." Arthur chuckled around a clot of blood as he spit it into the dirt. "Could be dysentery." The coughs died out, leaving him feeling spent, but he still had to leave camp. He had to save them all from himself, as a last act. The thought of dying out in the wilderness, cold and alone and coughing like mad did little to make him feel any better. But it was a damn sight better than seeing so much as one person get the same death warrant he carried.

He left as he usually did, nodding to Pearson and Ms. Grimshaw as they passed. Charles was on duty, the black/Native American man keeping his dark eyes on the perimeter just as Hosea had taught him. The pang in Arthur's chest as he went by had nothing to do with the Tuberculosis. Charles had nothing but respect for him, and Arthur felt the same for his fellow.

Arthur's horse pawed at the ground, seeking a particularly succulent patch of grass. The black Arabian had been with Arthur ever since Valentine, when he had chanced upon the majestic beast roaming wild on the plains. Either born from escaped horses or a escapee himself, Famine had proven stubborn and nearly unbreakable, forcing Arthur to dedicate a week just to working with the hardy animal. Now though, the horse would follow him to the ends of the earth.

Arthur threw his bag across his alligator skin saddle, the dark and pebbled leather allowing the strap to slide smoothly. He climbed smoothly up into his place, carrying the reins with him as he did so. Famine snorted and trotted forward without any guidance from Arthur as he pulled his revolvers from the saddlebags, sliding them home into their holsters. Twin Schofield revolvers, styled to compliment each other. One was made with blackened steel and silver engravings, sporting an ivory grip. The other was silver with gold engravings, the handle a dark walnut and carved with a crawling snake. Life and Death, he called them. Most just called them Morgan's revolvers, seeing as how he had so many guns, naming them all would be tedious and immature. But it resonated with Arthur that no matter what situation he found himself in, life and death were in his hands. Even now, with the reaper hanging over him, he still had some control over things.

"Gone for a bit, Arthur?" Charles called, watching him prepare. Arthur's back stiffened, and he hesitated before he turned to face his friend. Had he turned right away, the pained grimace on his face would have prompted further questions. The sun's failing light gave his friend a hawkish look, and it hurt enough to lie anyway.

"Yeah, figured I'd go for a ride. Help out some poor fool, maybe hunt some deer." It was an easy deflection, assuming that Arthur would do what he had done so many other times. Still, his voice or his face must have carried some weight, as Charles didn't smile or respond with the usual banter. The young man just gave Arthur a stony, searching look, before finally nodding slowly.

"Whatever you're looking for out there, Arthur, I hope you find it." There was weight to Charles' words. He knew this was goodbye. Blame it on his less than legal upbringing or his Native American heritage, Charles knew that this was the last time he would see Arthur Morgan. The elder cowboy swallowed a little, before hiding his eyes in the way of tipping his hat.

"Same to you Charles. Take care of everyone for me." That was all that he could say. It was all he needed to say. Charles nodded again, and Arthur turned toward the winding path. A dirt line through the trees, curving up and around the hills that protected their temporary home. He'd always known there would come a day when he would look upon it for the last time. It just never occurred to him that it would be like this. Still, destiny waited for no man, and the longer he waited, the more of a danger he was to his family. So Arthur Morgan spurred his horse lightly, and he would tell everyone that ever asked him that as he left behind the company of Dutch Van der Linde, he never looked back.

A few hours later, little Jack noticed that Mr. Arthur wasn't around anymore. He had wanted to show him the cool deer he had whittled from a stick. Jack poked around Mr. Arthur's things, though he knew if he took anything his mother would be very upset. Mr. Arthur's hat looked like it was sitting on something though. Glancing around to see if anyone was watching, Jack pushed the hat out of the way and found a letter. It was thick and handwritten, but Jack was still too young to know all his letters. Maybe Mr. Pearson could read it to him. Mr. Pearson always helped him sneak around camp, and wouldn't tell Momma if the letter was something he wasn't supposed to see.

Jack hid the letter under his shirt and turned around, coughing lightly as he looked for the camp cook.

* * *

Arthur found his first order of business a few minutes south of Beaver Hollow, wandering around as he was. The smoke from a camp fire had caught his eye, and the outlaw had left Famine behind a good distance away so that he could sneak in on foot. The horse was still within whistling distance, but he knew better than to stop his horse right outside of a stranger's camp. Or in this case, a camp of Murfrees. The yokels were all crowded around the central tent, though there wasn't a lot of movement. He could hear their heavily accented hooting and hollering, and was thankful it allowed him to sneak up as far as he had. The collection of tents made it terribly easy for him to get close, and once he did the sight before him set his blood aflame.

The Murfrees had captured a young woman it seemed, though her attire was a little strange. Even though she was trussed up and nearly hidden by the press of unwashed bodies, Arthur could see her outfit was stumping their probing hands so far. She wore a brown corset and long pants that were a bit small in Arthur's opinion, judging by how they clung to her muscled legs. Brown boots muddied by many days in the rain were nearly off thanks to the grubby fingers of one Murfree, while another tried his hand at the rest of her clothes. Her hair was black or dark brown, obscured as it was by the fire's flickering shadows, though he could have sworn there were edges of red in her short locks. The only Murfree by the fire, another dirty man in coveralls held up an ornate sword, his eyes locked on the odd and mysterious mechanism near the hilt. A white cloak sat near the fire as well, partially wrapped around a satchel they had yet to pilfer through. Since she was both unconscious and as best Arthur could tell unsullied, they must have only just brought her to camp. Not a one stood guard in anticipation for a little 'fun' with their captive. Either the years of inbreeding had turned the Murfree Brood's brains to mush, or they were too excited to bother posting a lookout.

Regardless of the reason, it was child's play to sneak up on the lower side of the camp, creeping up a steep embankment flanked by trees and brush. Arthur dragged three of them into the woods and silenced them without catching any attention. When he heard the tearing of clothing, however, Arthur knew he had to move quickly. With the three outliers dead, only five more Murfree psychos remained. Huddled around the woman like they were, Arthur stepped between them and the fire, casting them all in his long shadow. His two revolvers were already in his hands.

"You boys partyin' a little early tonight?" His words caused all of them to turn in shock, their squinting beady eyes reminding him of swine. "Figured I stop in and say hi." Before anyone could reply with word or lead, Arthur's signature weapons spoke angrily. The first two rounds found the Murfree deepest in the tent where they had taken the woman, throwing him backward and knocking the pole down that kept it up. As the tent fell, the surviving four thugs scattered, though not before Arthur gave the two on the left some new eyes. The boys on the right scurried for their weapons, apparently a rusty Cattleman revolver and a wicked looking machete. The one going for the revolver died as he stooped, three of Arthur's four rounds filling his chest full of holes. The fourth shot winged off into the trees, forcing Arthur to back up as the last remaining Murfree came swinging. The outlaw tracked the machete in its swing, stepping back to dodge and raising Life to focus on the man's elbow. Another shot rang out, and the angry yelling was replaced by panicked screams. Arthur's final victim sank to his knees, his left hand wrapped around the spurting wound at his joint.

Arthur kicked the machete away lest the bandit try anything stupid, and stooped down to a crouch a few feet away as the man continued to put pressure on his wound and scream. Judging by the way blood continued to spurt up through his fingers, Arthur had hit an artery. Without proper medical care, which he doubted a group like the Murfree Brood could find, the man was condemned to death by exsanguination. Blood loss, as the lay man would say.

"Ya know, most people don't get holes blown in their arms when they keep their hands to themselves." Arthur had to raise his voice to get over the panicked cries of his last surviving victim, even though it make his chest tighten.

"Go to hell, you damn dirty Yankee!" The Murfree spit angrily, the ground around him turning red as he failed to stem the flow of blood. Arthur watched him for a while longer, as his cries became angry and frustrated whimpers and grunts. The outlaw stood up finally with a heavy sigh, and even then the Murfree boy watched him with wide, panicked eyes.

"I've been killing you Murfree shit heads ever since I came near Saint Denis, and that's the one thing you boys can't seem to grasp." Death lowered toward the man's knees before he could respond, and the revolver fired once more directly into the man's crotch. His whimpers turned to high pitched shrieks, the Murfree boy falling over and clutching his new wound. Arthur normally would not be so cruel, but he had witnessed first hand the things that the Murfree Brood did to women they captured. It didn't take a fool to guess what had been in store for the strange woman they had trussed up like a hog. Speaking of which...

Arthur holstered his weapons and coughed into his elbow, not wanting to dirty his hands with blood before he cut this woman free. God forbid he save her from one fate and condemn her to another. When the fit passed, he turned toward the other side of the fire where the tent had collapsed.

"Miss?" Arthur called out, his voice rough from coughing. "Miss, are you alright?" No answer came from the tattered remains of the tent, and he stepped forward and swept it away. Imagine his surprise to find that the woman was gone, her ropes cut and lying on the ground next to a sleeping mat that smelled really funky. A scuffle of boots behind him drew his attention, and Arthur's mouth fell open as the woman stood over the screaming Murfree, her sword pointed at his throat. She had her back to him, focusing on her would be rapist even as his voice began to weaken, his screams and expression slowing into a sleepy daze as he bled out. Arthur heard the woman sigh quietly.

"It never changes." She muttered, and slammed the pommel of her sword into the side of the bandit's head. It was a harsh blow, heralded by a loud crack as he was driven into the ground with force. It knocked the Murfree out, allowing him to bleed to death without agony. With that done, the woman turned to look at him, and the first thing he noticed was her eyes. They were...silver?

"Awful kind thing to do, considering what he had planned for you." Arthur said warily, ready to react if she decided to turn that sword on him next. The woman looked around at the corpses, her brow creasing as she winced.

"No one deserves to suffer like that. Even though he'll die, I don't want to hear his screams later." She explained, her voice soft and lilting. "Who are you?"

"Arthur Morgan, ma'am." He held out a hand, and she studied him for a moment. She seemed to have made a decision, however, as she scooped up her cloak and sheathed her sword in the same movement. The sword rested on her left hip comfortably, she finally returned the gesture and grasped his hand. And goddamn, was she strong!

"Summer Rose. Thanks for the save. They caught me in a, ah, moment of weakness." She blushed at the thought. Arthur released her hand with a small grunt of understanding. It was difficult enough for a lady to take care of her 'ablutions' on the road, even harder still with creeps like the O'Driscolls and the Murfree Brood running around.

"You need a ride anywhere? I was on my way to Valentine, but I ain't going too quick if you need to be somewhere." Arthur offered. He'd keep facing forward if she took him up on it, just to make sure he didn't spew blood all over her. Summer glanced around at the ruined camp they had destroyed. One of the dead Murfrees had caught flames from the campfire, and soon enough most of the supplies there would follow.

"I'm good on making my way, but could we go somewhere else? It's late and I'm starving." She nodded up toward treeline Arthur had come from initially. "Last time I came through here, I made camp near a pond up that way. There's some old ruins that we can take cover in, and go our separate ways tomorrow." Summer paused when she realized what that sounded like, and she blushed prettily and broke eye contact. "If you're okay with that, that is."

The idea would have thrilled the old Arthur Morgan. Spend a night with a lovely young woman, roll around on the sleeping bags and turn out the next morning before she woke up. But now, with the specter of death hanging over him and the pain in his chest, Arthur started to say no. The more he looked at her as she picked up her pack, searching through it to make sure everything was still there, the more he realized that whether he cared or not she needed help. He wasn't long for the world, what reason did he have to turn her out into the wild?

"Yeah, I guess I could cook something up. I've got some spices and some venison, as long as you don't mind the wait." He focused on the cooking part of her offer, to let her know he wasn't interested in _that_. Not with her, anyway. She wasn't Mary, and at this point it would probably be a death sentence for her, lying with a man so afflicted with Tuberculosis. Her visible relief was almost insulting, until Arthur reminded himself that she was against the act himself, not anything against him personally.

"Thanks. I brought some dried food, but nothing beats a cookout!" She cheered happily, a turn of mood that left Arthur wondering just what was up with this lady. Then again, most folk he ran into on the road were strange, so he wasn't going to judge too harshly.

"Alright then. Let's get out of here." Arthur agreed, bringing his hand up to his mouth and whistling sharply. An answering whinny could be heard in the distance, and sure enough Famine came trotting up the hill, standing loyally next to Arthur and tossing his head. The cowboy patted his companion fondly, and turned when he heard a small gasp come from behind him. When he turned, Summer's eyes were wide with glee as she saw the majestic Arabian.

"Oh my gosh! He's awesome!" She cried happily, bouncing forward with an energy that he would not have expected from someone who just avoided a night of terror and despoilment. And awesome? Who said things like that? _Please tell me she isn't European... _

"His name's Famine, and he's been by my side through a lot. I found him on the plains, and eventually he learned to like me." The horse snorted and pushed his cheek into Arthur's temple, knocking his alligator skinned hat to the ground. Summer chuckled and approached tentatively, not wanting to spook the beautiful creature. Arthur held on to Famine's halter as he bent down to retrieve his hat. While he was stooped though, another round of coughing bent him double. His head swam as blood spilled from his lips, and his legs went weak as he sank to his knees and continued to hack and sputter. Summer stepped back at the new development, grabbing Famine's reins to keep the animal from running away.

Arthur gasped when the fit finally passed, spitting another crusty glob of blood into the dirt. He wiped his mouth and cleared his throat, somewhat ashamed by the way she looked at him. Of course, the sickness would ruin what could have been a pleasant evening with a fellow traveler. If he was this far along, it was probably for the best that she go her separate way. He looked up to make the suggestion, but Summer was already on one knee beside him.

"I've seen this before." She said solemnly, picking him up to his feet faster than he expected. She really was a lot stronger than she looked. "We need to get you to camp. I may have something that can help." Arthur tried to wave her off, but she would have none of it as he was roughly pushed up against Famine's side.

"There's nothing that can help me, girl. I'm a little too far for medicine at this point." He rasped, and another cough stole any further words from his mouth. Still, he obliged her by stepping into the stirrup. He took no pride in the fact it took her pushing him from behind to get into the saddle. Arthur coughed again, leaning forward and shuddering while his head got light. He heard a feminine grunt of effort, and suddenly Famine was cantering forward under protest, tossing his head in annoyance. He turned his head to look back, and Summer's white cloak met his eye. She'd jumped up onto Famine's back from the flat ground? That took some serious strength, more evidence towards her being much stranger than he first thought. Her arms linked in front of him and gently took the reins from his shaking hand.

"I'll take over from here. Just rest, and try not to fall off." Her breath ghosted past his ear, and Arthur found himself nodding even as the world spun around him. His breathing grew raspier, and even then it felt like he couldn't get enough air. His chest felt tight, yet clogged at the same time. He blinked a few times, trying to focus on which pair of Famine's ears in front of him were real, and then things got dark for a while.

The next thing Arthur remembered, he was propped up on a log in the shadow of a waterfall, or something similar judging by the sound of falling water behind him. His hat was in his lap, or at least it looked like his hat. Arthur blinked, his blurred vision clearing slowly as he groaned. The white object in his lap indeed proved to be his hat, and he placed it on his head wearily in what had become an almost automatic response to losing it in the first place. When his hand came down, it went to cover his mouth as he coughed feebly. More blood than clot stained his hand, but he could still the the dark grains mixed in with it as he wiped it on the grass next to him.

"I can help you, you know." The voice came from across the fire, and Arthur looked up to see Summer struggling with his collapsible grill, turning it this way and that as she tried to figure out how it went together. He watched her for some time, too tired to speak, but his expression must have said everything.

"Where I come from, we have medicine that could cure you, even get you back to full strength." She continued, finally fitting the pieces together and setting the apparatus up above the flames. With that done, she pulled the venison he had wrapped up from his pack and began rubbing salt, pepper, and some thyme into the meat. "I could get you there, but I can't go with you. There are... people, trying to kill me back home."

"Who... would want to kill... you?" Arthur ground out, the words taking so much effort just to say. He was so tired, and his chest had stopped hurting as much. It was rude to fall asleep on someone though, so he'd fight through it for her sake.

"There are some bad people back home. I made them angry, and recently I took something from them. Something they desperately want. I came here to keep it away from them. I did the same thing a few years back, but things were so different here I had to return. Now, I can't." She sounded so sad, and Arthur could see the shimmer in her eyes. He grunted and sat up a little, fighting his exhaustion.

"That's a lot to do for a stranger." He growled out, massaging his throat. "You shouldn't be that generous, especially around here. People tend to take advantage of that. Where are you from, anyway?"

She looked up from the venison chops she had placed on the grill, and her face contorted with uncertainty. Why? She'd already spilled most of the beans, or so it seemed. Arthur couldn't see why she would suddenly clam up now.

"It's a city called Vale, and it's very _very_ far away from here." Summer said with a sigh. "My family thinks I'm dead, and that's probably for the best. If they knew I was still alive, they'd come looking for me. Or worse, the people after me would go looking for them." Arthur looked down at the campfire when she admitted that. He knew something about leaving family behind, having penned his last letter only hours ago. The thought of abandoning them to their fate, wherever Dutch took them, was enough to turn his stomach. If Summer had done it years prior, and still had the guts to keep moving forward...well, good on her.

"You said you were takin' me to your home? Sorry to be a bother, but I think you can forget about that." A pained wheeze escaped his lips. "I don't think I'd survive the trip." It wasn't some verbal taboo to speak of death if it was the condemned that was talking. Even if it was, the weakness in his breath and the pain in his chest told Arthur he was not long for the world. Summer was a kind girl, really; far too kind for a man like him to spend his final hours with. She didn't deserve to be burdened by a cutthroat.

"If I really work at it, I can have you in Vacuo by morning."

...What?

"I can't say I've ever heard of the place." He felt he had to say something, seeing as how the camp went dead silent at her offer. Summer giggled at that like a teenager, and shook her head.

"Nope. It's not North, South, East, or West of here. Not that I've found, anyway. Still, it would take a lot to get you there. I'm not going to do it for free." Of course. Even someone as kind as Summer would have conditions. Who was he to complain, though? He'd been compensated for good deeds plenty of times.

"Ma'am, you fix my chest here and I'll dig up all the gold in California to pay you back." He meant it too, though the difficulty he had in getting a full breath had him doubting her words. He'd ridden all over Lemoyne and New Hanover, and he'd never heard even a breath of Vacuo. Maybe it was a new settlement, but that wouldn't get him some kind of miracle cure for the killer of cowboys he had floating in his lungs.

"Nothing like that. I don't really need money or anything. I just need you to look after someone for a while. And deliver a gift." As she said that, Summer placed the venison steaks on the grill and reached into her pack. What she pulled out, Arthur was astounded that the Murfree Brood hadn't already lifted off of her. A golden crown, intricately carved with curling vines and baroque leaves to a level of detail Arthur thought impossible. The crown came to a pointed tip in the center, and a perfectly cut red gemstone shone in place there. Arthur had stolen a lot of things in his time, priceless heirlooms and jewelry, but the item in Summer's hands could have easily bought the mayor's house in Saint Denis.

"The people after me wanted this Relic for their own gains, but I brought it here to keep it out of their hands. I'm the only one who can open and close the vault it was protected in, so I emptied it and ran. Now, the people I helped desperately need this Relic, but I can't return without raising suspicion. My family would be in danger, and I would be hunted all over again."

Arthur considered the priceless artifact in front of him, listening to the sound of sizzling meat as he considered the offer. To be fair, he'd taken plenty of risks knowing less than what Summer had told him, and she wasn't asking him to kill or rob anyone like most folks he wound up assisting. On the other side, these people that were after Summer sounded like serious business, in line with the Pinkertons that had dogged Dutch's gang since Blackwater. But helping her meant he could breath again, and would likely live another ten years or so barring a fight going wrong.

"Alright, I'll do it." He said with a weak cough. "But I need you to do something for me too." Summer winced as he said it, setting the Relic down and turning the steaks as she nodded for him to continue.

"Break John Marston out of the state pen, and you got yourself a deal. I owe that kid more than he's gotten, and he deserves a clean break. One of my friends, Sadie Adler, is at a tavern in Saint Denis planning his rescue. Help her out, get that boy and his family out of here, and I'll deliver your Relic." Arthur looked at Summer with bloodshot eyes that had already seen far too much death. "Hell, if I find anyone out there named Rose, I'll give them a hand on principle. You protect my family, and I'll do the same for yours."

Summer stared back at him for a long time, those silver pools reflecting everything he saw in himself as she considered his offer. It was not something he made lightly, promises such as this. But living with a terminal illness and watching Dutch slowly turn into some kind of sociopath had changed Arthur's outlook. Absolving debts, protecting travelers, giving money to the needy; he'd found his honor in the twilight of his life. If she needed him to keep hold of his guns, to keep killing for the sake of protecting people, it was something he'd do willingly if she returned the favor.

"Alright, you've got a deal."

"Great!" Summer cheered with a smile. "Now that the heavy stuff's out of the way, how about some dinner?" Arthur nodded and shuffled up into a seated position, even as Summer speared his steak onto a hunting knife and tossed it his way handle first. Even with TB ruining his breathing and his blood flow, Arthur still managed to snatch the food out of the air. He smirked and bit into it, savoring the rich flavor that ran across his tongue. The meat was juicy and tender, yet had the character and bite of the seasonings Summer had rubbed into it. Even with the weight of death on his chest, the steak brought a sense of calm to him. The troubles of the past few months seemed to wash away, and a content smile spread across Arthur's flushed face. It didn't solve all of his problems, but for a moment they didn't seem so serious. Dutch Van der Linde and his 'plan' could wait, at least until he figured out how to help Summer.

The two shared stories as the night wore on, Arthur offering far more than Summer. When she told him that she was some kind of hunter, the gunslinger told her the story of how he had killed the great white alligator in the swamp north of Saint Denis. He even included the story of how he had run into it while Dutch prepared to attack Angelo Bronte's estate. Summer gasped and laughed with true fervor, honestly enjoying the tales of a rugged outlaw as the two ate their dinner. Despite the rigors of storytelling with lungs perforated by TB, Arthur enjoyed himself as well. When a coughing fit did take him, Summer sat quietly and allowed it to pass, never once smothering him with pity or getting irritated with him. The tales carried them deep into the night, and Arthur was the first to yawn.

"So," Arthur took another bite and chewed a moment. "When are we heading to, ah, Vacuo?" The words came slowly to him, and Arthur blinked in confusion. This wasn't just drowsiness; his mind was muddled, much in the way that a night of drinking would do. Summer took another bite and wiped her mouth with her wrist, before smiling sheepishly.

"I kinda slipped a potent narcotic into your steak. It'll slow your breathing, and should help with the pain. I can't get you there while you're coughing up blood." His vision swam even as she said it, and Arthur's brow rose in surprise even as his eyelids became heavy. Potent indeed. The steak fell from his numb fingers and Arthur's head fell forward, his chin hitting his chest as it became too much effort to hold his head up. He'd barely noticed it, and already it was a chore just to focus on his dinner guest.

"Well that's not...fair..." Arthur barely got any more out before the darkness crept in, enveloping him in its warm embrace.

* * *

Warmth was the last thing Arthur remembered, and it was the first thing he recognized. Warmth, and a million gritty things digging into his back beneath his shirt. The cowboy groaned wearily and opened his eyes slowly, only to shut them with a hiss as bright sunlight stabbed into his retinas. He was lying on the ground for the most part, judging by the soft dirt around him and the fact he was outside. His right foot was up in the air, lodged in something, and it felt like he was being dragged.

_I told her to get me there, but I figured she'd be a little more gentle._ Arthur though groggily. How his hat had stayed on, he had no idea. Since it was an inevitable pain to deal with, Arthur forced himself to open his eyes. He squinted into the sun, and its blinding light kick started the headache that he knew he'd be suffering after the events of the previous night. His chest didn't ache like it had the past few days, but he could still feel the discomfort of TB weighing him down.

"Summer?" Arthur called, his dry throat mutilating the name as it passed his parched lips. No one answered, and the ground continued to slowly slide up his back unabated. It was a familiar feeling, but his mind was foggy. Each thought and consideration felt like a round ball of marble, coated in oil for good measure. He just couldn't get a grip on where his mind was going.

_For it is in redemption, we achieve immortality..._

The words came to his mind unbidden, though it was not his voice that spoke them. It was Summer's, and echoed as if from far away.

_Through this, we are bound to our honor, an endless quest to help those in need..._

She had said those words, but not in a conversation he could recall. Where had he heard them? How long had he been out?

_Burdened by guilt and strengthened by faith, I release your soul, and by my hand... absolve thee._

Something within his chest stirred. Not the TB, or a strange heart flutter, but deeper within. It felt as if a furnace had been lit within his heart, but it was a good heat. A strong, comforting fire, like it was holding back a blizzard. The surge of energy gave Arthur enough motivation to look around, his hand coming up to keep his hat on.

"Holy shit..." Arthur breathed out, and immediately began pulling at his boot.

He was nowhere near Lemoyne or New Hanover, that was for damn sure. Coarse sand fell from his arms as he worked, and all around him there were great expanses of the stuff. An arid desert expanded in all directions that he could see, though behind him a trail snaked through the sand from where his horse had dragged him for miles, it seemed. Speaking of which...

"Hey! Whoa, boy!" Arthur called, not unkindly. Famine tossed his head and snorted, turning to look back at him and stopping. The animal was dirty as hell, his black coat covered in dirt and dust. Famine rumbled irritably, as if to say 'get up already!' Arthur finally had the chance to untangle his alligator skin boot from the stirrup, and did so quickly. He had far more energy and ease doing it than he had in the past few weeks, making him wonder once again what weird spell Summer had said over him. Arthur clambered to his feet and looked down at his hands, noting for the first time a faint light covering them. It was as if he were encased in some kind of film, and it receded as he continued to stare.

"What in the hell?" The cowboy muttered, absolutely lost in more ways than one. Here he was, in the middle of the desert, no idea in hell where _here_ was, and he glowed. What the hell had Summer put in that steak?!

Arthur removed his vest and dusted himself off as best he could before putting it back on, knowing full well how aggravating sand could be on long trips. It was coarse and got _everywhere_, and would rub you raw if you ever did any hard riding. On top of that, he'd have to make sure that Famine's saddle was clear of the irritating stuff, or the horse would get sores. Sores lead to infections, which lead to dead horses. The cowboy heaved a heavy sigh and looked at the saddle, wondering if all of his gear was still in order. The bolt action rifle and pump shotgun were still strapped firmly in place, and his bow sat on the rear in its usual spot. A piece of paper with his name on it caught his eye as it poked out of the saddlebag, however. Arthur reached up and removed it, finding the paper tied to a small package. Separating the two, Arthur unfolded it and read the note first.

_Dear Arthur,_

_ I hope you wake up quickly. The ruins I use to come to Lemoyne are pretty far out, and I wouldn't want you to get lost in Vacuo's desert. I don't have much paper, but I left you my scroll. There are some videos on it that should explain things, and you need to get used to our technology. Just stretch it out like you were reading a rolled up piece of paper, and the device will recognize you. Don't lose it; I want it back one day!_

_ Be careful out there, Arthur. I know you are a good man, but the world you find yourself in is not the one you have known your whole life. If you are not cautious, you may not return. I will honor my promise to you and help this John Marston, but after that I fear I must leave. I'll be staying in Canada for a few months, and hopefully you will be done with your task. Return the Relic to a man named Ozpin, and he will help you come back home. But see a doctor first! I may have activated your Aura, but you still need treatment. There's some lien in your saddlebags, it should cover a visit to the clinic._

_ See you soon,_

_ Summer._

_ P.S. If you meet my family, do not tell them I am alive. It would put too much on Ruby and Yang, and I don't want my husband to kill himself trying to find me._

Arthur folded up the letter and opened the package, wondering what the hell he had gotten into. A strange metallic device dropped into his hand, as long as a pen and a little thicker than he would expect from most metals. Putting his thumbs on the two metal tabs, he pulled it gently like Summer had said, and to his surprise the little device expanded. When it did, a transparent screen extended between the two tabs, and a picture of Summer appeared. Then it moved.

_"Hey Arthur!"_

"WHOA!" The cowboy exclaimed, dropping the device in the sand and stepping back. As it fell, the scroll powered off and closed back into its compact form, decidedly not trying to bewitch him as he first assumed. Carefully, Arthur nudged it with his foot, but it remained inert nonetheless. Taking a few settling breaths and muttering about technology, Arthur knelt down and picked it up, then opened it again. The portrait of Summer appeared again, and he was less startled this time when it spoke.

_"Hey Arthur!"_ The miniature woman waved. He almost waved back, if she hadn't started talking again. _"I can't hear you, but I recorded this message for when you woke up. If you're not Arthur, please put my scroll back and help my friend. He needs to find a doctor soon."_ Summer took a breath and smiled again, and Arthur would have considered it pretty if he weren't so totally lost.

_"This scroll is a way to communicate with people, but I can only teach you the basics. Keep it with you at all times, and be careful. Carrying around a dead woman's scroll doesn't exactly paint a good picture."_ Summer winced sheepishly. _"Still, you have more need of it than I do. Just don't delete any of my pictures, please."_

Figuring that he could watch the message – never thought he'd use that phrase – and ride at the same time, Arthur climbed into the saddle and gave Famine a light squeeze. The horse snorted and set off at a comfortable trot, seeming glad to finally have some direction. With nothing better to do, Arthur pointed him away from the sun, and they set off.

_"I know you probably feel a lot better, but you still need to see a doctor. I activated your Aura, the embodiment of your soul, but the bacteria that caused all that damage is still in your lungs. Some antibiotics will clear it up, but you can't just buy them from the store. Now, about your Aura..." _Summer shrugged in the image. _"You must have a million questions about that, but is pretty much a way to use the power of your soul to defend yourself. Right now, you probably feel better than you have in years, and that's because your Aura has been healing your lungs. It can also increase your strength and do some pretty crazy things, but you will need a Hunstman to help you out with that. After you find a doctor, seek out a Huntsman at Shade Academy. They should be able to offer some basic lessons, although I wouldn't recommend attending. You'd spend half your life in a classroom."_ Arthur flexed his arms and clenched his fists, agreeing that he indeed felt better than he had in years. There was still the general sense of wrongness in his chest, and he coughed a little, but this Aura stuff was pretty handy. Played hell with what he knew of the world, but useful besides. While Summer paused for a breath, Arthur dug into his saddlebag and removed a large glass bottle. Pulling the cork free with his teeth, Arthur upended it and drank greedily. Hopefully the bourbon would burn away all this craziness.

_"Anyway, be careful out there. Unlike here, almost everyone has Aura, and they use it to fight the Creatures of Grimm. If you see any solid black animals with bone plates, stay away from them. They are evil beings, and will attack you without provocation. They are the reason we use Aura to defend ourselves." _Now that sounded even more outlandish. Seriously, monsters? What a bunch of cow shit.

_"I have a few more videos on here, but I need to get to work sending you to Remnant. Be careful, Arthur Morgan, and come back safely. Also, don't freak out too much when you see the moon. Send me a letter or something when you come back, and we can share stories. See ya later!" _The image froze on her wide smile, eyes closed in a cheerful grin as she waved. Arthur snorted and closed the scroll, still unfamiliar with the strange device. It would take some getting used to, that was for sure. Arthur emptied the last of the bourbon with a sigh and tossed the bottle away, hoping the buzz would help him process all this insane shit his newest and strangest friend had foisted upon him. He'd watch the scroll videos in a few moments. After all, he had time. How big could this desert be?

* * *

**A/N: **Arthur was such a fantastic character. If you've made it this far, I've already spoiled Red Dead Redemption 2 for you, and if you ignored the summary to reach this point it's your own damn fault. I'll try to hold true to Arthur's character, but it's hard to play what if for every scenario and still remain accurate (Z!). If he appears too OOC, let me know.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This story was pretty well received. Considering there is only one other in the category, I figured there would be less traffic. Oh well, good news is good news! Welcome all, and I hope I don't promise too much with this speedy update. Truth is, I already had chapter 2 almost finished when I released chapter 1.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Four hours later, Arthur finally found civilization. After watching the scroll videos several times just to make sure he wasn't drunk or addled. The whole Aura thing still boggled his mind, and he had to pinch himself a few times just to test it. Sure enough, if he focused on it, the strange barrier appeared, turning a painful pinch into a dull prod. He'd considered experimenting with the knife, but a smart cowboy did not use a knife while on horseback, even if his intent was to cut himself. She mentioned Semblances, special abilities unique to each individual person, but so far he hadn't seen any evidence of that yet. The Aura he could use was slippery, too; if he was distracted, it still hurt same as always. He'd need to practice with it, preferably before he got into a gunfight. Unless this strange place had no guns and everybody skipped around holding hands. _Summer talked about people out to kill her and hurt her family though, so I doubt that's the case._ Arthur considered as the wavering shadow of a city grew closer.

He passed a few people and nodded, their clothes consisting of light cloth that covered all of their skin. Considering how sunburned his arms and neck were, he wished he had thought of that when he'd packed back in Beaver Hollow. Of course, trekking through the desert had not been in his plans for his final trip out.

"Ma'am." Arthur tipped his hat to a woman comfortable enough to walk without a hood or hat; a blonde haired woman with tan features and a bright smile as she returned his greeting. When she walked past, however, Arthur nearly fell out of his saddle. A long feline tail protruded from her tan robes at waist height. Either she had a large cat she'd taken a trophy from and stuck it to her behind, or this woman had a tail! She didn't notice his confusion, but the two guys behind her certainly did. Their disapproving looks reminded him that this kind of thing was normal in Vacuo, even though he'd never seen anything like it before.

"Vacuo is a strange place." Arthur sighed, removing his hat to rub his temples with his free hand. Summer's videos had mentioned people called 'Faunus' that had animal traits and features, but he had assumed a tribal inclination like some Indians he had met out west. To find that they had actual functioning animal parts, judging by how the blonde woman's tail had swayed back and forth so naturally, was still something of a shock. Time for the aged pirate rum, he figured, and dug the long necked bottle out of his saddlebag. One long pull of liquid fire later, and Arthur realized he didn't particularly give a damn what people had attached to them. A pleasant buzz hummed in his mind, and an easy smile spread across his face.

Closer to the city, away from the outer layer of tents and covered vehicles (horseless carriages had apparently become a thing VERY quickly), the adobe walls of the city loomed over him. Arthur squinted at the large entrance, wide enough to allow ten horses shoulder to shoulder, and the two large metal gates that stood open. Four guards stood in the middle as a myriad of people passed between them, their eyes scanning the people going by them for any mischief. They wore tan robes with metal badges pinned to the chests, and the robes parted in the center that showed weapons on their hips and white uniforms underneath. Their heads were wrapped as well, leaving only their faces exposed. Not a one of them had facial hair, strange as it was to Arthur, but they all seemed confident and alert.

As they stared at him, it finally occurred to Arthur that he was the only man there on a horse. He'd seen a few pulling carts earlier, but using one for personal transportation seemed a little odd to the people around him. Arthur took their looks in stride, used to standing out from time to time. This wasn't his first rodeo.

"Mornin', fellas." Arthur greeted, earning nods from three of them. He made to steer Famine past them, but the one that had not nodded stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

"You'll have to stable the horse. We don't allow large animals inside the city." He said without hostility, though there was little kindness as well. Arthur bristled at first, but once again reminded himself that he was a stranger in these parts. Weird thing that they were worried about the horse, but not the guns on his belt. They did things differently, and it was up to him to catch up. Didn't help his temper though, fueled by alcohol and the bizarre circumstances he found himself in.

"Mister, everything I own is on this horse. I ain't just gonna hitch him to a post. Know anywhere around here that's good?" Arthur tried to keep his irritation out of his voice, and if the guard had a problem, he didn't show it.

"If you're going to be in town for a few days, there's a barn down that way that will board him for a decent price." The man pointed to Arthur's left along the wall, where a large wooden building could be seen over the tents. "If you're not sticking around, he can stay by the gate, and I'll instruct the watch to make sure no one messes with him. No promises on that, though; I can't make everyone do their job right." It was a fair point, really. Given that he knew exactly nothing about the place, there was little he could guarantee on getting out before sundown. On top of that, he didn't feel like chasing down a fence because some little alley rat ran off with some of his belongings.

"Yeah, I'd better head to the barn just in case. Appreciate the help, partner." Arthur nodded and turned Famine toward a dusty trail that lead to the barn. The guard returned the nod with a wave, then went back to watching people come in and out. Not quite a rough start, but not the in and out that Arthur was anticipating. Then again, Vacuo appeared to be quite the city. The adobe walls were at least twelve feet in height, and even up against them, a few stone towers rose up inside the city. It made sense, though; Vacuo was the oasis in the desert, and a center of commerce as well as survival.

The barn was remarkably cool compared to the desert heat, and run by a Faunus named Mickey; a young man with close cropped black hair and brown eyes that twinkled with mischief. He wore a simple tan shirt and brown apron over blue jeans and boots, and he had a cap that was constantly twitching. Arthur was secretly thankful for the cap; he still wasn't used to the whole Faunus thing, and he didn't want to offend the guy that was going to watching over all his worldly possessions.

"Whoa!" The young man gushed over Famine, even as the horse tossed his mane smugly. "What a beautiful horse! What's his name?" Arthur dug the lien and Summer's scroll out of his saddlebags before handing the reins to Mickey, who honestly had never stopped examining Famine to consider his cargo. He kept the Relic in the bags, figuring it would be safer here since he was entering a city. Pickpockets getting his super secret cargo was not in the cards today.

"Famine. He's been with me for a long time, and has gotten me out of some serious trouble. You gonna take care of him?" Arthur knew he would, judging by the starstruck look on the boy's face.

"Oh, you know it sir! A specimen such as this deserves the star treatment. I've got some oats in the back, and we're air conditioned in here. No more desert heat for him." Mickey thumbed is nose as he lead Famine to an empty stall, his hands already going to the myriad of buckles that kept Arthur's alligator skin saddle on the horse. "How long are you planning on staying?"

"Well, for tonight at least. I gotta see a doctor and find out a safe way to Vale without going broke. How much for two nights, just in case?" Arthur kept his hand in his satchel, not wanting to show how much lien he had. It was an old bargaining trick; if the merchant couldn't see what you were working with, he'd highball the price and give you an idea of what you could haggle down for. Mickey, however, proved that unnecessary.

"I'd normally charge twenty-five lien a night, but for such a beautiful horse, I can do forty for two nights. If you wind up leaving before tomorrow night, I'll refund the remainder to you." Mickey had the saddle unbuckled and pulled it from Famine's back, groaning at the weight of Arthur's belongings as he struggled to put it on the rack next to the stable. Free of the weight after so long, the Arabian whinnied and shook his head, glad to be free of the constricting harnesses. Arthur had made every concession to keep Famine comfortable, but one could only do so much with rabbit fur and alligator leather.

"Sounds good to me." Arthur dug out the lien, strange ceramic cards colored certain ways and inscribed with their worth. Arthur had thought them silly at first, but lien didn't look like it would burn or tear if it got wet, so there was some wisdom to it. Two green lien cards later, and Famine was stabled for the visit. A quick count told Arthur he had two hundred lien left, and he hoped it would be enough for the treatment he needed. It'd be poor form indeed if he died from TB now, after everything Summer had given him to make him better.

"Thanks for your help Mickey. I'll probably stay in town today, but I'll let you know how things go." Arthur called as he walked out. Mickey responded with something, but the cowboy was already too far out to hear him.

A short walk back to the city gates, and Arthur passed through without interruption this time. The guard that had stopped him gave him a nod and a small grin, but that was it. Once inside, however, Arthur could only gasp as he took in the city.

The place was definitely larger and better planned than Saint Denis, or any other city he'd been to for that matter. Despite its location in the middle of a desert, they had electricity set up everywhere. Displays similar to his scroll lined shops and showed wares and prices. All of them were well lit with artificial light, and air conditioned like Mickey's barn had been. People walked the stone streets in colorful clothes with designs that Arthur had never seen before. And the hair colors! Either there was a barber around here that owned a mansion, or his definition of 'natural' needed an update. Pink, red, blue, orange; every hue of the rainbow was growing out of people's heads, and in styles he would have generously considered European. Compared to most of the people walking around, Faunus or not, Arthur felt like he stood out in his regular clothes, though he guessed regular was now an objective thing.

It was only once he had wandered deeper into the city, six blocks at least, that he'd realized he didn't know where to go. He'd been so caught up in looking at his strange surroundings, he'd never asked directions to the doctor. Vacuo was too large to search on his own, and judging from the size of it any directions he received would be a little difficult to follow.

"Excuse me, sir." Arthur stepped up to a man leaning up against a wall near an alley, which was shadowed even in the late morning sun. The man was muscled, obviously so, and dressed in a white vest with black pants of all things. A blue cloth was wrapped around one of his large biceps, and Arthur could barely see a white emblem of some kind stitched into it. His hair was black and cleanly cut, and he had long sideburns. Hazel eyes watched Arthur closely, though he didn't feel like he was about to get mugged. He tensed subtly when Arthur walked up, though the cowboy couldn't quite fathom why.

"What is it?" His voice reminded Arthur of Charles Smith, though even deeper. He clearly wasn't in the mood for games, but at least he hadn't turned Arthur away.

"I'm a little new in town, and I'm looking for the doctor. Could you point me in the right direction?"

"What's the matter?" The Faunus growled. "Your scroll not work?" Uh oh. Time to cover up his ignorance of Vacuo. Arthur thought for a second, then slapped his forehead and chuckled.

"Sorry, friend. I never did get the hang of the things. Don't see much of them where I'm from." Best he act simple for now. It was an easier answer than 'some woman drugged me and dumped me on what I assume is another continent and cast a spell on me'. Seriously, Summer; what the hell?

"Give it here." The Faunus straightened up and held out a hand, the callouses telling Arthur more about him. This was a man used to working and fighting, if his worn knuckles were to be judged. Some kind of bruiser or enforcer, judging by the cloth wrapped around his arm. Whoever he worked for, they weren't total assholes. Arthur handed over Summer's scroll, watching intently as the man pushed a few icons and frowned.

"This thing's pretty old. It didn't have the navigation program, so you're lucky you asked for help." A few more taps and beeps, and he handed it back to Arthur. "It should have a map of the city now."

"Thanks, partner." Not wanting to be rude, Arthur looked around a bit as the man leaned back up against the wall. "So, what are you waiting on? Anything I can help with?" The man's brow furrowed as he frowned, and stood into a wider stance, hands at his sides.

"Why?" It was a one word demand, and Arthur held his hands up in surrender. Here he was, trying to be helpful, and picking fights by accident. Can't say Arthur hadn't done that a dozen times before.

"You helped me out, so I figured I'd return the favor. If I'm bothering you though, I'll just be on my way." Arthur stepped back to follow through with his words, but the man deflated a little, his shoulders slumping.

"No, no. I'm sorry, I just..." The man sighed heavily before shaking his head. "Vacuo's a pretty laid back place, but we still run into racists every now and then. Can't be too careful." Arthur waved off his apology, used to how Lenny and Charles would stiffen up around some of the more outspoken folk in Lemoyne.

"Name's Arthur, if that helps. Arthur Morgan." He extended his hand, and thankfully the Faunus took it without hesitation.

"Tukson. Tukson Stark. I'm sorry I jumped on you like that." He released Arthur's hand and had the grace to look sheepish. "You hear enough crap from people, it's easy to assume they're all going to be the same way." Arthur nodded and shrugged, not really bothered by the hostility since he knew it wasn't pointed at him.

"I'm used to one set of people getting the bad hand. It's human nature, really. Doesn't excuse the behavior, but it explains it. Like I said, though, you need a hand? As soon as I finish with the doctor, I don't really have anything to get to." Besides get to Vale and find someone named Ozpin, but he had time for that. Wherever the hell Vale was.

"Not really. My boss is meeting with someone to help us move cargo to the coast. We're trying to gather some building supplies for Menagerie, but so far no one wants to ship to us. It means we have to travel out and get it ourselves, and there's a bad season coming soon. The more quickly we can gather supplies, the sooner our families will be safe." Tukson pointed his chin toward the street where Arthur had come from. "A few companies here had agreed to sell to us, but their labor costs were outrageous. We offered to do the work ourselves, and they wouldn't let us in the storehouses. 'Security reasons', they said." Tukson spit into the dirt to tell what he thought about the excuse.

"These fellas willing to help though?" Arthur asked, and Tukson nodded.

"Yeah, but Sienna thinks they're shady. Our leader, Ghira, just needs materials fast, so it doesn't matter where it comes from. Sienna is inside discussing terms, but she doesn't trust these guys. They're not exactly straight, if you catch my meaning." Ah. Arthur would never admit it, but he and Dutch's boys had sold plenty of supplies 'acquired' by robbing coaches. It was easy cash if you found the right buyers, as long as they didn't report you to the law. Building materials in the west were always worth a fair price, since people were putting up houses left and right. Arthur didn't know enough about Vacuo to gauge how successful a business like that could be, but if Tukson's crew was making a purchase, it couldn't be terrible.

"I've got some experience with people like that. If you need any more security, I'm quick with a gun. It's about the only trade I have." Arthur offered honestly, patting his right holster for emphasis. Tukson looked him up and down again, this time for real, and he nodded slowly.

"You certainly look it, but no offense when I say we can handle ourselves. There's a lot of trust in security like that." He shrugged in apology, and Arthur nodded in understanding. Before he could offer his goodbyes, however, Arthur and Tukson both started when raised voices could be heard in the alley. Tukson and and Arthur shared a look, and then both took off into the dark path between buildings. Dust kicked up as they ran, turning a hard right as Tukson barged through a partially closed door on the inside wall. It was lucky Arthur had followed, because the cowboy saw a shadow to Tukson's left that the Faunus had either missed or ignored.

Arthur saw the glint of a blade, and he was in motion. His hand reached out and grabbed the wrist holding the blade, hauling the attacker out into the light while Tukson tackled another. Arthur missed what all else was happening inside the building, so preoccupied was he in fighting over the knife. A masked man, wearing black robes of all things, snarled as he fought for control. Arthur twisted the man's wrist and got behind him, pinning the blade flat between the two of them. The man struggled at first, and put up less resistance than Arthur was anticipating, but quickly found he was overpowered. He dropped the knife from his pinned arm, but grabbed it as it fell with his free hand.

Swinging without looking, the stranger barely missed Arthur's ear and forced the cowboy to pull back. The added space was enough for the stranger to wrench his arm free and face Arthur. His dark eyes glinted with malicious intent as he reversed the knife, though the way he held his arm told Arthur that some damage had been done. Arthur drew his own blade, the hunting knife he'd had engraved with skulls back in Valentine. The two circled each other slowly, each waiting for the other to make the first move. Arthur knew that the first clash had to go in his favor, or he'd be spilling blood all over the sandy ground.

Time seemed to slow as he focused on the blade, watching it waver this way and that as the man feinted. The world took on a golden hue, and Arthur calmly batted the knife away with his palm. Still caught in the spell, he smoothly carved a line up the man's forearm and sank his blade deep into the opposite shoulder. When the hilt of his knife met flesh, time resumed, and he was almost startled by the loud scream of pain that came from his attacker.

The other man's knife sank into the dirt between them as he fell to a knee, clutching Arthur's knife as blood spurted around it. Not wanting to go another round, Arthur clenched his fist and landed one solid punch, right along the man's covered jaw. His pained cries ended abruptly as he lost consciousness, slumping to the ground the rest of the way. Arthur tore some of the man's cloak away and rolled him over, grasping his knife firmly. With a sick slurping sound he removed it, then immediately held the scrap of cloth down over the wound. It grew wet and sticky immediately, and Arthur had to tear three more strips to bind the wound. Everything inside was quiet, so he figured he had time. In a few seconds, he had the man's shoulder wrapped up snugly and a stretch of rope around his wrists.

Once he was done, Arthur wiped his knife off with the remaining cloth and sheathed it, then stepped into the building. The meeting room was small and dark, perfect for some under-the-table deals like the one Tukson described. Six men lay on the floor, and judging by the blood on the ground, two were dead. Tukson was standing, however, and his employer was as well.

She was... well, Arthur was still getting used to the Faunus, but there was no denying that this woman was gorgeous. Her skin was a dusky shade, and darker in stripes down her arms like a tiger. Two cat ears sat proudly atop her head, gold ear rings looped through them. Her human ears were pierced as well, though partially hidden by her short, dark hair. Amber eyes studied him even as he did her, and he was reminded of a cougar he had fought in a cave once before. This woman was not to be taken lightly.

Her clothes were, if nothing else, as exotic as she was. Her shoulders were bared, though a stiff collar came up to her neck. The shirt was black with white highlights at her throat, shoulders, and chest, which was partial shown by a small, diamond shaped keyhole. Her robes fell across her legs, though he could see the toes of her boots could be seen beneath the flowing cloth. A cut up the side at her hip exposed dusky striped flesh and some strange type of pants or stockings. To Arthur, she looked like of a very expensive Chinese lady, though he doubted she would appreciate the comparison. And he realized he was staring at her still.

"Uh, ma'am." Arthur nodded in her direction, then looked at Tukson. "Everyone make it out okay?" The male Faunus knelt down next to one of the groaning men on the ground, and his gritting teeth told Arthur that all was not right.

"For the most part. Cain took a blade to the arm, but he should be alright. His Aura will heal it, but he can't fight right now." Tukson looked up from his comrade, a man with no animal traits to be seen at a glance, and nodded toward Arthur. "This is Arthur Morgan. I was speaking to him outside when we heard the noise, and he offered to help."

"And help he did." Sienna's voice was silken, smooth, but carried the edge of authority. She kept a respectful distance away, but turned to face Arthur with a small smile. As she did, Arthur heard the faint clink of metal. Whether it was a hidden weapon or an addition to her bizarre outfit, he couldn't tell. "I fear Tukson would not be here right now had you not intervened. I appreciate the help, Mr. Morgan, but why would you assist us like you did?" Even though he'd saved her man, she was still suspicious, and rightfully so. Arthur held up a hand to show he meant no harm.

"I was passing through and asked Tukson here for some help with my scroll. We don't get much use out of them back home." Not technically a lie. "We heard the commotion, and I figured it was the right thing to help out since he helped me out. I'd be less of a man if I hadn't." The answer seemed to satisfy Sienna, and she nodded in thanks.

"Not everyone shares your outlook, but I do thank you for saving my friend. However, I'm afraid he got hurt for nothing, it seems." She huffed, crossing her arms and cocking her hip in a pose Arthur was more than familiar with. Extra parts or not, Arthur knew a frustrated woman when he saw her.

"I'm guessing you're not getting those supplies you wanted." Arthur asked, and her eyes cut to him dangerously. She studied him for a moment, then looked over at Tukson, who grinned guiltily.

"Sorry." Sienna rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, but it was Arthur she spoke to.

"Unfortunately, yes. Things got messy before they ever told us where the supplies were located. Even if we knew where they were, it would be no small task to take them by force. And if anyone catches wind that the White Fang were going through a fence to get supplies, no one will deal with us. Our ship on the coast leaves soon, and we have nothing to show for it." The man named Cain sat up with Tukson's help, groaning as he held a hand over his wounded arm. Sienna's eyes softened for a moment as she looked at her wounded man. Arthur stepped back and made room as Tukson lifted his fellow Faunus up on one shoulder, and together the three of them walked out of the back room. Arthur closed the door behind them, sealing in the five men that Sienna and Tukson had fought. Sienna examined the man that Arthur had stabbed as they passed, and she looked over at the cowboy.

"You bound his wounds? That's quite kind considering he was trying to kill you." There was no suspicion in her voice, only curiosity, but Arthur knew he had to give a good answer. He sighed heavily.

"It's a couple of things, really. He was quick, but I can tell he's young. I've killed many a fool over many a foolish thing, but I didn't feel like it today. I'm not going to do him any favors, but I didn't need to kill him, so I didn't." Arthur gestured at the three of them. "Besides, you really want people to see you guys walking out of an alley where a murder occurred?"

Sienna looked down as she considered it, before finally shrugging nonchalantly.

"It's not like they can report us to the police without first explaining why we were meeting in the first place. From the looks of them, these men were organized, and not the type to make reports. Even so, I appreciate that you were trying to prevent further trouble. It is an... honorable thing. We Faunus don't often encounter people like you." Arthur took it as praise, and judging from Tukson's surprised look, it was rare from a woman like her. He grinned and removed his hat, scratching his ear and not meeting her eyes.

"It's what anyone worth a damn would do. Besides, I can't say I don't know what you're going through. I've lived quite the life, and it wasn't always done the legal way. If your people need help, ya gotta do what you gotta do. Speaking of which," Arthur nodded back in the direction of the alley as they turned down the street, ignoring the perplexed looks people were giving them. "Where are you going to get your supplies now?"

Tukson and Cain looked over at Sienna as well, but if she was nervous about having all eyes on her, she didn't show it.

"We'll find some way to make do. I'd say we have another day and a half before we miss the boat. That's plenty of time to make arrangements." Arthur had a comment on offering help, but it died as his lungs reminded him that he still was not in peak physical condition. A racking cough escaped from him even as he covered his mouth, though it did not paralyze him as it had done in the past. Sienna and Tukson paused as he coughed, and maintained a certain distance when he finished. Arthur sighed as he looked at his hand, and was surprised to find far less blood than was normal with TB. Whatever spell this Aura stuff had put on him, it sure came in handy.

"You mentioned a doctor." Sienna stated. "I'm guessing it was for that?" Arthur nodded, wiping his hand down the front of his vest in absence of a handkerchief. The blood smeared across the white scales, and Sienna's eyes lingered on it before looking back up at him.

"Yeah. Bacterial infection, almost killed me to be honest. Met a woman that activated my Aura and pointed me here for treatment." Arthur spit into the dust, ignoring the looks from passersby. "I still need medicine, but I'm far better off than I was."

"It seems kindness follows you everywhere." Sienna commented with a smirk. Her eyes flicked to Tukson and their injured friend, and her smirk broadened into a predatory grin. Coupled with her tiger stripes and the ears on her head, it was a fearsome look. "I have a proposition, then." Arthur had heard that phrase before, and his first instinct was to say no. However, he was new to the place, and if he was going to find this Ozpin guy, he needed friends. Besides, there was nothing stopping him from cutting ties if things got too complicated.

"Alright, shoot." He held his hands up. "Not literally, though." Sienna chuckled at the joke, then inclined her head towards Cain.

"My friend here needs treatment for his wound before we start traveling, whether we complete our mission or not. Even though we handled most of those men, I'm sure more will be between here and the clinic. Since you need medication as well, why not go with Tukson and make sure there are no... unscheduled interruptions?"

"Alright. Seems fair to me." Arthur held up his scroll. "To be honest, I'd rather trust him than this little thing." Tukson laughed this time, and Sienna nodded in agreement.

"I appreciate your help. Now go, before someone investigates the alleyway. When you're done, have Tukson bring you back to where we're staying. At the very least, we can feed a kind stranger." Sienna fluttered her fingers toward the three men and turned, striding confidently back into the crowds that walked the busy streets of Vacuo. "Take care now, boys."

Arthur waited until she had disappeared from view before he let out a low whistle. What a woman. He could see why Tukson and Cain had no problems taking orders from her. She was driven and confident, he could see that, and judging from the five men they'd left inside the back room she could handle herself in a fight. She also cared enough to make sure her men got the care they deserved. In a way, she reminded him of Dutch, though he realized that was a poor compliment given his old leader's recent behavior. Tukson grinned at his reaction and shifted Cain to walk a little better.

"Careful, she might have heard that. Come on, the sooner we get this poor fool looked at, the sooner we can get back." Arthur agreed, and came around to take Cain's other arm. Even though he'd been stabbed in the arm, the way he was limping suggested that it was not his only injury. Arthur paid special attention to be gentle, and once he was situated nodded to Tukson.

"Alright then, lead on."

Together, the three of them staggered through the streets of Vacuo, once again exposing Arthur to the bizarre culture that danced all around him. People holding scrolls up to their ears, walking in pack while dressed in brightly colored clothes that were alien to him, and some of them were sipping drinks from specialized looking cups. Arthur had asked about the scrolls, and both Cain and Tukson looked at him in surprise.

"Man, you weren't kidding about never using them." Tukson smirked. "You can use them to call other people all over Remnant, provided you're in range of the CCT. Of course, once you get out into the wilderness they're useless, but I'm surprised you've never worked with one. Where did you say you were from again?" Ah shit. Now he had to lie, and lie well. If they suspected him of getting cagey now, heading back to their camp could have an entirely different outcome. He couldn't tell the truth either, since they'd either call him crazy or a liar. So, he settled for a half-truth.

"Spent some time in a place called Rhodes for a little while, but I've been moving from town to town since I was young." Arthur shrugged, then apologized when it made Cain wince. "Spent so much time hunting, fishing, fighting, and surviving that I never really took in the sights. Biggest town I ever saw had maybe four hundred people." That was a blatant lie, but he had to sell it. If they thought he should know better than he did, he was better off telling the whole truth for all the good it would do him. If they thought he was from somewhere more populated, though, it wouldn't explain why he was so unfamiliar with the technology.

"To think, Vacuo probably seems big to you then." Cain laughed painfully. "Welcome to the absolute dirt hole of Remnant. The weather is harsh, the land is rough, and the people are both. At least, on this side of the Kingdom they are." Kingdoms, huh? Every day, it sounded more and more like he was stuck in some Eastern European mess, though he'd never heard of Faunus and Aura back home. Whatever the hell Summer had done to him, Arthur kept wondering more and more if he hadn't stepped into a little too much bullshit.

"Most of the people in Vacuo don't actually live in the city itself." Tukson explained, taking a side street that had a building with a bright neon sign, the medical cross flashing red within the shade of the taller structures. "It's a real dick move not to help people when you're moving through the desert, and a lot of people outside of the city are pretty helpful. Here though, you get all the cast offs that can't find it in themselves to be decent to others. Vacuo's considered one of the fairest Kingdoms when it comes to the Faunus, but lumber and building supplies are so rare that we had to come to the city."

"Why didn't you go to another Kingdom, then? Even if they're nicer, rare commodities don't come cheap." Arthur asked as they approached the door, taking most of Cain's weight as Tukson opened it for them. The injured Faunus complained about it, but the other two ignored him and ushered him inside. The waiting room was clean, except for a thick mat at the door, and two couches sat against the left and right walls. A small counter sat next to the door, with a bored looking blonde woman sitting at the desk. She looked up when they came in and waved them over.

"Vale's a little dicey at the moment, since one of our demonstrations turned bad. Atlas won't sell to us at all thanks to the Schnee Dust Company, and Leader Belladonna is in Mistral right now. He figured we should try our luck here just in case he failed." Cain explained while Tukson filled out the paperwork, looking quite out of placed looming over the receptionist. To her credit, the woman did not look overly concerned by the large White Fang agent. Arthur carried Cain over to one of the couches and gently sat him down, earning a nod of thanks as he sat down beside the Faunus. Tukson followed behind soon after, and pointed his chin toward the desk.

"The lady said she needed to see you. Gotta fill out some paperwork." Arthur sighed and nodded, standing up and allowing Tukson to take his place. The woman at the desk slid a few papers on a clipboard over to him with a pen, one that was clearly both more advanced yet of inferior quality to the one Jimmy Brooks gave him so long ago. Three sheets and what felt like an eternity later, he'd either filled out or made up everything on the forms, and turned them in just in time for the doctor to come out for Cain. Arthur waved them on, and both Tukson and Cain followed the elderly man in the white coat back into the clinic.

Settling in with a sigh, Arthur resigned himself to wait.

An hour and a half, a somewhat invasive examination, and eighty lien later, Arthur was the proud new owner of a bottle of pills, inscribed with his name and instructions for taking them. It was amazing to find that between Aura and Vacuo's advanced medicine (according to Arthur, anyway) he could not only survive TB, but also recover from it in a matter of days. He didn't know what the hell were in antibiotics, but right now he didn't particularly care. By this time next week, he'd be free of the death sentence he had carried around for so long. Cain's arm had been wrapped with bandages, and he'd been sent on with some pain meds. The doctor had administered some directly as well, which meant that Arthur and Tukson were carrying him back to the White Fang's camp. They had been forced to stay out of the city, due to the cost of rooming over a dozen people and storing their vehicles. It was apparently easier to sleep in the cab of a truck for a few days than it was to rent a room. There were tents and bedrolls as well, of much better quality than the ragged choices Arthur kept on his saddle, and it seemed he'd be staying close to one of the fires.

The guards they had passed on the way out of the city were not the same ones Arthur had seen upon his arrival, and he did not like the way one of them sneered when they saw Cain's clearly Faunus traits. Still, he bit his tongue and focused on getting their loopy friend back to camp so he could lie down. When they did reach the camp, he found that the White Fang were comprised _entirely_ of Faunus, though not all of them were as obvious as Sienna and Cain.

Sienna had met them when they approached, her shoulders a little less tense now that she was surrounded by her own people. Her smile was easier as well, and she took the arm Arthur was using to support Cain as he passed off the doped up Faunus.

"Thank you again for your help, Mr. Morgan." She said, leading them into the corral of trucks. Just like the covered wagons that Arthur was used to, they had circled the trucks for protection. Whether it was from the elements or other people was Arthur's guess. Together, she and Tukson slowly settled Cain down onto a mat, though Tukson stayed nearby just in case he needed anything. With him finally taken care of, that left Arthur and Sienna free to wander around camp. Sienna led him away from the tent toward the fire, where several long logs sat as seats and turned to face him when she reached it. She stuck her hand out, and Arthur took it with some reluctance.

"I never fully introduced myself earlier. I am Sienna Khan." Her grip was strong, but not painfully so. Arthur shook it once and let go. "I hope I wasn't too rude with you, but you must understand. It's not often we meet humans that genuinely want to help without some ulterior motive. You not only put your life on the line for a total stranger, but you helped another to the doctor. You are... strange, if you don't mind me saying." She glanced away at the last part, and Arthur did as well. Such naked praise wasn't really something he was used to.

"Ah, I just did what anyone else should do. No point in making it something it's not." Arthur rubbed his arm, looking into the fire instead of at Sienna. "Just because everyone else has a poor opinion of you doesn't mean I have to agree on principle. That and... well, there was once a time when I was just like the men we fought today. Thanks to a stranger being kind, I got a second chance to live. If helping you paid even a tiny part of that back, then I'd gladly do it all over again." Arthur could see Sienna staring at him from the corner of his eyes, and to his surprise she laughed.

"Now see, _that_ is a reason I can believe. No matter how selfish it sounds, no sane person is truly that altruistic. I find it more than favorable that you have some debt to pay, some kind of guilt to absolve. If you had told me you had done it simply to be kind, I would not have believed you." Her amber eyes danced in the fire's light, and Arthur returned her gaze. It was like staring down a predator, and he wasn't sure if he was prey or not. A thrill crept up his spine, one he had not felt since his younger days. He'd promised Mary that there would never be another woman, though she had finally let him go according to the last letter she had sent him. The very last she would ever send, evidently. But right now, he felt an ember stirring in the fire he'd put out long ago.

"Well, why should I not have helped, then?" He challenged, out of curiosity as much as he wanted to shift the conversation to something other than himself. Sienna did not comment on his deflection, and instead held up hand, counting off of her fingers.

"The danger of interrupting a meeting with organized criminals. The risk of arrest when you assisted someone involved with said crime to get medical attention. The fact that we are a Faunus rights group used to persecution and malice from humans and you _are_ a human," Sienna ticked off each point as if she were quoting a grocery list, and Arthur shrugged every one of them off.

"Like I said, there was a time when I would have been the one setting up the ambush and selling stolen goods. I'm not a good man. I've seen good men, killed them too. Over small, insignificant things that weren't worth their lives. As for risk of arrest, I've had my scrapes with the law before. Nowhere around here, thankfully, but I know what the inside of a cell looks like. I spent most of my adult life with a bounty on my head." He gestured up toward her Faunus heritage, which flicked at his attention. "As for having them ears; I haven't got a reason to hate you. Why should I, when I have so many other problems in the world? I've got enough enemies without inventing more."

"Hmm." She purred. "If only the rest of humanity shared your philosophy. Still, it's not an uncommon one. Most people would rather ignore us or offer a polite hello and little else, but as in most things the extreme are usually the loudest. You've mentioned being out of touch with the rest of the world, but have you heard of the Schnee Dust Company?" When Arthur shook his head, she continued.

"After the Faunus Rights Revolution, a brutal war that we Faunus fought in order to be allowed into the Kingdoms, humanity promised to treat us fairly and equally. The SDC is a shining example of how hollow that promise was." Sienna sneered at the mention of the company, and ugly look crossing her face that had Arthur wondering just how bad it had been. A few other White Fang members passed by and overheard, and they too showed visible agitation at the mention of the SDC. "Reduced security around Faunus workplaces. Long hours and low wages. Skipped inspections and unsafe mines to work in. No insurance for the families of those lost in tragic, preventable accidents." She clearly could continue, but Arthur got the picture. It sounded like Leviticus Cornwall all over again.

"I've seen people like that before. Not the SDC, but something similar. A big company with lots of money and plenty of friends in high places." Arthur's expression soured. "It didn't go too well when we were involved." Eagle Flies had been forced to bury his last son, and the entire Wapiti nation had been reduced to refugees and fugitives as the government had forced them off of their land. Yeah, the story Sienna told was familiar indeed.

"I'm sorry that you're familiar with such tactics. But you clearly know what oppression looks like. So far, our leader has demanded we fight these cowardly tactics with peace and demonstrations. There have been successes here and there, I will admit, but it is not enough." Sienna shook her head slowly. "We cannot continue this way and get the results we desperately need. Today was just one more example of why action is required. Being forced into dealing with criminals due to the way we are taken advantage of."

"Is there no one that will listen to you?" Arthur asked. "I've helped with civil rights before, and I know it's not done in a day. Surely there are some out there that are listening, though." There had always been good people too, like Thomas Downes and Captain Monroe. No one was ever allowed to suffer alone, even if it took some time to get anything done. That's just how people were; you got the good with the bad.

"There are, but many powers at work make those with any kind of pull choose between supporting us or saving themselves. Their choice is expected, and perhaps not their fault. It would be foolish to ask someone to put their family on the line for strangers." Well, he didn't really have much in the way of family, did he? With Summer dropping him here in Vacuo, which he still didn't where 'here' was, there wasn't much he had at risk save his horse and his belongings. Summer had asked him to find Ozpin and deliver the Relic, but if he helped these people out along the way?

"Well, I suppose I could help out a little." Sienna smiled as he offered. "If you'll have me, anyway." Sienna chuckled and shook her head, though at what he couldn't quite guess.

"Given that Cain is going to be on bed rest for the next few days, I suppose we _could_ take on a hired gun." She looked him up and down, more for show than anything. "You seem decent enough... for a human anyway. Interested?" She held her hand out, and he shook it with a grin. She returned his smile, and he laughed a little at the 'interview'.

"That's the most praise I've heard in a long time. Count me in, I suppose." Arthur looked around at the tents, then back to his new employer. "I ain't asking for much, but any extra tents around here? Most of my things are on my horse." At the mention of Famine, Sienna's brows rose in surprise.

"Wait, you're serious? You actually rode a horse here through the desert?" At his nod, the composed woman could no longer help herself and burst out laughing, covering her mouth as she did. Her laugh brought a smile to his face, and the others around camp turned and looked when they heard it. A few appeared shocked, seeing Sienna talking and laughing with a human of all people. It wasn't impossible, to be fair, but a long time had passed since she had enjoyed the company of a human. The fact that Arthur was oblivious to such a change made it all the stranger.

"No need to be hurtful now." Arthur chastised with a chuckle, even as Sienna's shoulders continued to shake with mirth. She finally got herself under control, and she shook her head once more.

"You truly are a strange human." Sienna said with wonder, and Arthur couldn't really contradict her. Even back home, he'd found himself in some truly odd situations, and it only took so many before he wondered if in fact he was the strange one. The incestuous cannibal couple in between the towns of Rhodes and Valentine, the Grays and the Braithwaites, the strange doctor and his murderous metal child; all of the strange people he had met on the frontier, and the only real common factor had been Arthur Morgan himself.

"I'll take that as a compliment, ma'am." Arthur tipped his hat and reached into his satchel, pulling out the medicine he had purchased while Cain was getting his arm examined. According to the instructions, he was to take them twice a day, once every twelve hours. His first course would be after dinner, but the days events had him planning for an early nap if he could get one. The meds said not to take them on an empty stomach, so food and some sleep were fast approaching.

"You can take one of the spare tents we have in the trucks until you retrieve your _loyal steed_," Sienna smirked once more. "Until then, Tukson and the others should be starting on dinner soon." When Arthur rose to help, however, the tiger Faunus held up a hand.

"None of that. I'm sure you're used to helping out with a meal, but Tukson, Cain, and I are the only ones that know you. Some of the others may not take kindly to a human preparing their meal." As she said that, her eyes roamed to a young man dressed in a black jacket and pants, his crimson hair barely concealing two curled horns. His eyes were concealed by a strange slitted visor, its white ceramic surface hiding any emotion save for the young man's disappointed frown.

Arthur eyed the young man for a moment, then nodded and remained in front of the fire. Sienna smirked as his cooperation, then stepped away to speak to a few other Faunus. Arthur watched her go, and he had to force himself to look away from her swaying hips. That outfit didn't help, either.

"Where was she ten years ago?" Arthur muttered. Shaking off his daze, the gunslinger looked down at the medication again. Figuring now was as good a time as any, he open the bottle and dumped out two little brown capsules, as directed. Tossing them back and swallowing with a little difficulty, Arthur hoped that Vacuo's medicine was a damn sight better than Saint Denis'. His Aura, whatever the hell it was, seemed to have kept him from dying, but it would be nice to to double over coughing in the middle of a shootout. The doctor had told him to give it a week or so, and then he would be free.

The White Fang hustled and bustled around, though most of the trucks appeared to be empty. Clearly, they had been intended to haul cargo like what Sienna had been trying to purchase, but the sight of their empty holds left a slight frustration stirring in him. Even with his help, the locals were being less than helpful with the White Fang. According to Sienna, Vacuo was more tolerant than some of the neighboring countries. That didn't explain why they had found so little success. Still, he wasn't the closest thing to a local around here, so he'd leave that quandary to the people it affected. Instead, he'd focus on people watching and waiting for the food to be prepared. The Faunus that helped around camp reacted to his presence in a variety of ways. Some waved as they passed, which he reciprocated, while others gave him distrustful looks and avoided him. He ignored those, preferring not to cause any trouble with Sienna's people after she graciously offered him food and a place to sleep.

After half an hour, he grew bored of watching the people around him, and decided to examine his scroll a bit more. From what Tukson had said, the device was pretty important and useful. He poked and prodded the screen, going through different programs with very little understanding. He could read the words, but the meanings were lost to him. 'Home screen', 'contacts', and the 'address book' had not been what he had first assumed. He felt like a kid with his first book, flipping through the pages without a clue in the world.

_Do you want to allow 'contacts' access to your location?_ The little screen read. Not really seeing a reason not to, Arthur pressed 'Allow' and continued exploring the little device.

Not far from the fire, Sienna and her disgruntled lieutenant stood next to a large pot, where Tukson was whistling absently as he added spices and stirred a massive serving of noodles. Adam sneered in the direction of Arthur, an expression Sienna frowned at when she saw.

"Is there a problem, Taurus?" She asked haughtily, knowing the answer but daring him to voice it nonetheless. "Speak up, or does the cat have your tongue?" Adam's snort told her he was in no mood for such jokes.

"Why did you bring him here?" The young Faunus demanded. "You just met this human, and you already brought him into our camp? What if he works for the SDC, or the government? How can you trust him?" Adam's left hand rested on his blade, Wilt sitting at the ready should its master ever call for it. Sienna kept a watchful eye on the sword, lest her second in command get any rash ideas.

"I brought him here as thanks for his assistance, and if it makes you feel any better, I don't trust him. Not fully, anyway. The reason I've been so nice to him is that for the first time in a long while, I had a conversation with a human that did not lie." Adam balked at the simple answer, and almost looked like he was going to stomp off.

"I'm glad that our squad leader's motivations are so juvenile." He snarked, and clearly intended to end the conversation there. Sienna's hand on his right shoulder stopped him just as he took the first step.

"I know you have plenty of reason to hate humans, but I can tell you right now that Arthur is different. He showed only surprise when he saw that I was a Faunus, and continued to be gracious and polite with us. When I asked him why he helped us, he told me that he was struggling to right some past wrongs. He even admitted to banditry in the past." Sienna watched him even now, smirking at the frustrated frown on the man's bearded face as he continued to tinker with his scroll. "When was the last time you met a human who did not lie and cheat for his own goals?"

"By his own admission, he was a bandit. Does that not fall into the category of lying and cheating?" Adam swept his hand aside in frustration. "And yet you brought him here, to where our brothers and sisters sleep? What do we have to gain from him?" Sienna gave him a hard look, and in the end Adam was forced to look away. Next to them, Tukson's distracted whistling became much more forced and desperate, even going out of tune as he struggled to focus on the food before him.

"I have an idea to get our supplies tomorrow. If Arthur is agreeable, and I'm sure he will be, we will spend half the lien they were asking for and being headed toward the boat by noon. Not only that, but Cain needs to heal, and we're down a guard." A mocking tone entered her voice. "I do not doubt your ability to fight, Adam, but you were not born with eyes in the back of your head. Until Cain is back in fighting shape, we need another guard to watch the flank. So unless you can somehow watch both sides of the convoy and sleep when necessary, he's coming with us. His end goal is Vale, so when we meet up in Menagerie with Ghira, we'll go our separate ways. Until then, find a way to control yourself. Polish your sword, if that's what pleases you." Adam growled, and his thumb pushed Wilt from Blush just enough to be a threat.

"And where exactly will he be sleeping? Will you be sharing your tent as well as our camp with your pet human?" Sienna's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she shifted slightly. As she did, the ominous clink of chains caused the tension to rise.

"I can assure you, Adam, it takes far more than polite conversation and honesty to join me in my tent. Maybe he should stay with you instead? It seems like you have a lot of frustration to work out with him." Her calm veneer cracked a little as she bared her teeth. "And secondly, I truly cannot recall ever having to answer to _you_, young Taurus. Perhaps you need reminding of your place." The two slowly sank into their ready stances, Adam's hand creeping over to wrap around the hilt of his sword.

"Food's ready!" Before their standoff could evolve into something more, Tukson stepped between the two of them, his arms up to defuse any hostility. "Well, it's almost ready. Ten minutes tops. Don't...don't fight. You'll ruin the noodles." It was a lame excuse, really, but it did remind them of where they were. All around them, many of the White Fang were watching, their preparations for the night's meal postponed in the anticipation of an oncoming fight. Sienna and Adam were no pushovers, no matter how young the boy was, and a fight between the two of them would level their base camp. Not to mention the attention it would draw from the city guards.

"Well, for the sake of the noodles, I suppose we can postpone this little _discussion_." Sienna's tone indicated that there would indeed be a discussion, but she slowly stood into a more relaxed pose, Adam doing the same. They released their weapons, although Sienna's chains had never been revealed in the first place. Not wanting to leave the point unmade, however, Sienna grabbed Adam's arm as he made to step past her. He stiffened, but that was all he did as she leaned in close.

"Make no mistake Adam, _we need this_. The sooner Kuo Kuana gets these supplies, the sooner we can pressure Ghira into settling down as Chieftain. If the White Fang is going to go in the direction we need to, these supplies MUST make it back to Menagerie." She nodded her head toward Arthur, who was watching them curiously. "If putting up with one human is all you have to do to accomplish that, will you? Or should I find another lieutenant that doesn't run at the mouth at the slightest inconvenience?" Adam glanced at her out of the corner of his mask. She knew he had more reasons to hate humans than most, given his history with the SDC. But his constant paranoia against Arthur was likely to turn someone that would serve her purposes into the danger that Adam perceived him to be. The young man hesitated, and clearly had some biting retort, but ultimately nodded his head and turned away. Sienna released his arm, and the two of them left Tukson to sweat it out as he finished preparing the night's dinner.

Sienna walked back over to where Arthur was sitting, and he slid over on the log to allow room for her. The tiger Faunus nodded her thanks and took the offered place, her face pensive as she did so.

"Trouble in paradise?" Arthur asked, and Sienna chuckled at the term.

"Not quite. Young Adam is among the number that do not trust humans, no matter the circumstances. Then again, he has more reason than most to do so." She brought up two fingers to her eyes, and nodded toward the young Faunus as he stalked out of the camp. "He was branded by racists on his face, the reason he wears that mask. A rough childhood at the hands of similarly bigoted humans, and he's resolved to distrust them entirely."

"I can see that, at least. There's a lot of hate in that boy." Arthur shook his head slowly. "I've seen where that kind of hate can take a young man, and I'll say it now; he needs to let go of some of that anger, or he and everyone he cares about will suffer for it." Sienna looked down and away as Arthur said it.

"You speak from experience?" Arthur nodded.

"The people I told you about, the big company that wanted their land. There was a young boy, son of the local chief. He was so angry, and there was... there were others that fueled that anger. The leader of our gang fanned the flames for that boy, and soon we were launching raids against the company. It was foolishness from the start, but our leader Dutch insisted that it was worth it. While the government focused on the natives, we could pull a big score and escape in the inevitable dust up." Arthur looked down at his hands, ashamed of what they had done. "I brought that boy back to his father with a bullet in his gut and the army on our heels. All because Dutch wanted to rob one more train, one more oil field, one more stage. It was always one more, like we were just one bad deed away from freedom. Looking back on it now, I see what kind of fool he played me for."

"It sounds like quite the tale." Sienna said softly. "Whatever happened to your gang?" Arthur winced at her question, as it was one he had not yet asked himself since coming to Vacuo. What _had_ happened? Micah had been snaking around, that was for sure, and Dutch had been going crazy. John Marston was in prison, awaiting a hangman's noose, and Sadie Adler had been drowning in rage. Bill was being the dumbass they all knew him to be, and Abigail and Jack were just...caught in the crossfire, he supposed.

"I don't know." Arthur admitted. "I found a woman, tied up and ready for some real nasty business just outside of Annesburg. I saved her from the inbred savages that had trussed her up, and she noticed I was dying. She told me she could get me fixed if she sent me away, as long as I brought some Relic to a man named Ozpin. Next thing I know, she's slipped something in the evening meal and I'm waking up in the desert, with Aura and my horse pulling me through the sand." Arthur chuckled as he watched Tukson start bowling out dinner for everyone. "It's almost enough for me to not trust anyone's cooking."

"I'm sure Tukson won't do anything too rash, especially given what all you've done for us today." Sienna said with a sly grin. "But if all of this is true...where ARE you from, Arthur? You sound so traveled, yet you aren't familiar with anywhere I've seen or heard about. This Annesburg, a big company seizing native land, being a bandit; where did all of this happen?" Sienna didn't sound distrustful, merely curious, but it still reminded him that he was in unknown territory, carrying out a supposedly dead woman's wishes and carrying some of her belongings. It wasn't the strangest thing he'd ever done, but the Faunus, the technology, Aura... where the hell was he?

"Most of it took place between the states of New Hanover and Lemoyne." Arthur answered honestly. "Those states are part of the United States of America. Surely you've heard of the U.S.?" When Sienna shook her head slowly, Arthur felt his gut drop like he'd just looked over a steep cliff. How far away was he? Even in America, he knew about England, France, Germany, Russia, the whole nine. Before he could go deeper into his own introspection, Sienna gently picked up his scroll. A few quiet ticks later, and she turned it sideways, presenting a map for him to see.

It wasn't a map he recognized.

"We're here, in Vacuo." She pointed to a small dot on the western continent. "This is Vale, Atlas, and Mistral. The four Kingdoms of Remnant. As far as I can tell, there's never been a 'United States of America'." Sienna sounded like she was apologizing, but Arthur was too dumbstruck to comment. Summer had said... just what in the hell had that woman done to him?! Dutch Van der Linde, Leviticus Cornwall, the Wapiti nation; not a one of them had ever been anywhere near where he sat at this point in time. It couldn't be real, shouldn't have been...unless...was he dead? At the end of it, Summer had seemed a fever dream more than anything, but he'd trusted his own eyes and ears. Now, though, surrounded by such bizarre things, this being some kind of weird afterlife wasn't off the table.

Arthur looked at Sienna, and he could tell from her sympathetic expression that the face he wore was one of a man truly lost. The tiger Faunus placed his scroll down and sat quietly while Arthur grappled with his new sense of hopelessness and doubt, even as Tukson approached with two bowls of steaming food. She took them and sat hers on the ground, holding Arthur's in her hands as she waited for him to say something. The gunslinger just stared into the fire, his wide eyes searching for answers that it would never provide.

"Maybe...maybe it was once around here. Kingdoms and countries have risen and fallen for centuries." Sienna hypothesized. "Maybe Summer just...sealed you away for a while. You said that she'd saved your life, right? Maybe you were just in the desert for longer than you thought." Arthur's gaze snapped to her, and for the first time since he'd met her, Sienna flinched.

"You believe me?" Arthur breathed out. "All the crazy shit I'm spewing out, and you believe me?" Sienna handed him the bowl, the warmth of it doing little to distract him as he stared down into the broth. Wavy white noodles sat in some kind of tomato based sauce, if the red was anything to go by. He could also spot some meat and a few vegetables.

"You say these things with the confidence of a man that believes them." Sienna explained, picking up her bowl and blowing some of the steam away. "I've been lied to many times in my life, especially by humans. In time, I've come to learn the tells that a kind face might have. And every time we've spoken, you've said every word as if it were the truth. So either you're some secret agent," That earned a snort from the gunslinger, "or you genuinely feel that these events happened, in these places. I can't say I know where you came from or how you got here, but I'm left with one of two choices." Sienna offered him a fork to eat his broth with, guessing correctly that he would have no idea what to do with the chopsticks she produced. Also, she only had her one set.

"And those are?" Arthur stuck the utensil into the bowl and wrapped the noodles around it, pushing them around as he waited for her answer. His stomach had been close to growling a few minutes ago; now he could barely think of eating.

"You are either crazy, and you do not have the bearing of a crazy person." Sienna smirked at his reply of 'gee, thanks', "Or you actually lived these tales you tell, and how you got here is a mystery. I choose to believe the second one."

Arthur's thoughts ran to his conversation with Summer.

_"I can't say I've ever heard of the place."_

_ "Nope. It's not North, South, East, or West of here. Not that I've found, anyway."_

She'd been right, though he didn't have the context of what she spoke of at the time. Now, as he stared at the strange map outside of a strange city sitting next to a strange woman, it began to dawn on him just how far out he really was.

"Well..."Arthur searched for something to say, he really did. When nothing came to mind, he reluctantly brought the fork to his lips, savoring the flavor of the stew Tukson had made. "At least the food is good." Sienna less chuckled and more outright laughed at his lame statement, earning more looks from around the campfire. With bowls in hand, more White Fang members sat down around the fire, and their conversation was no longer private.

"Like I said before," Sienna's laugh colored her voice as she too tasted some of the stew. "You truly are a strange human." And this time, Arthur agreed with her.

After dinner was finished, Arthur was allowed to at least help clean the dishes. The rest of camp either grew a little more familiar with him over the course of the meal, or Sienna and Tukson had told the story of how they had met him. Cain would have likely done the same, were he not high on painkillers and giggling at the setting sun because it looked like a sinking orange. Arthur's own meds seemed to have their side effect as well; the moon wasn't even out yet, and he was already feeling drowsy. The bottle warned that the meds would make him sleepy, and it wasn't lying. So, the gunslinger asked around for a spare tent and got it set up quickly, barely even removing his gun belt before he crawled inside and fell asleep, his dreams grappling with the same quandary he had faced at dinner. As Arthur Morgan slept outside the walls of Vacuo, uncertainty clouding his mind and haunting his dreams, the shattered moon rose above him. He never even realized that his problems were only just beginning.

Far away on another continent, another man's scroll pinged with a notification. The man drew it from his pocket with disinterest, taking a sip of brandy as he did so. When he read the text, however, Qrow Branwen spit his drink out all over the barmaid that had brought it to him. In a moment of rare clarity and speed, he paid for his drink and left a sizable tip before the woman even had the chance to slap him, his weapon strapped onto his back.

* * *

I'm sure everyone can sense the coming storm here.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

* * *

The morning came bright and early, a little too much of both for Arthur's tastes. The desert sun was only just climbing into the sky, but it was still able to slot itself through the flaps of Arthur's tent and straight into his eyes. The gunslinger groaned as the sun's rays chased away any hope of going back to sleep, running his hand down his face and scratching at his stubble. Slowly, the fog of sleep cleared from his mind, and the events of the previous day pressed in on him all over again. As Arthur stared into ceiling of his tent, he hoped that maybe, it had all been a dream. A fevered, Tuberculosis fueled dream.

"Morning, tiger." Arthur looked back toward the entrance to his tent and found Sienna, bright eyed and ears perked. _There went that theory._ Arthur sighed and waved half heartedly, causing the Faunus to laugh and back out of his tent. "Come on, we have work to do!" As her words faded, Arthur could hear the faint sounds of activity about the camp. Apparently, he had been the last to rise.

"No sense in making everyone else wait." Arthur muttered to himself, and slowly climbed out of the tent into the morning light. All around him, the Faunus of the White Fang prepared to set out for the day. A few sat near the smoldering fire, yawning and trying to shake themselves awake. Over near one of the trucks, he could see Tukson and Cain talking quietly. When they noticed him, both waved and smiled. Arthur returned the wave with a yawn, reveling in the ability to breath without difficulty or pain. Whether it was the Aura, the medication, or both, Arthur didn't care. All he was concerned about was the ability to breathe normally for what felt like the first time in years. The specter of death that had hung over him for months was gone now, or at the worst on its way out.

"What's the matter, cowboy? Not used to the heat?" The tease came from Sienna, of course. He had only known her for a few hours at best, but Arthur felt that he had the measure of the woman. She poked and prodded not for her personal enjoyment, or not entirely anyway, but to test the limits of the people around her. It was the reason she was at ease with so many around her; she knew where they stood and how far they could be pushed. It would also explain why her first instinct was to tease him, though she kept within the realm of courtesy. He was helping them, after all.

"Oh, I'm plenty used to it. It's the breath of fresh air that I'm not quite believing." He responded. Wondering if he was treading dangerous ground, Arthur decided to snipe back. "I thought cats preferred to sleep in, anyway?" No one froze up or gave him scandalized looks, and Sienna's answering laugh told him he was in the clear.

"Not when there's work to be done. Come on, I'll fill you in on the way." Rolling his shoulders and donning his hat, Arthur followed directions and fell in step next to the White Fang leader. Together they left the safety of the circled trucks and started heading toward the city gates. Arthur glanced behind them to see if anyone else was coming, but to his surprise it was just himself and Sienna Khan. The tiger Faunus noticed his look back and smirked.

"This one's all on you today, Arthur. I came up with a plan that _might_ get us the supplies we need. If you're up to a little deception, that is." Her tone carried the unmistakable hint of a challenge, and Arthur could already tell where this was going.

"Let me guess: you want me to buy the goods, and pull wool over their eyes when it comes to who their customers really are." Sienna smiled and nodded, then put a finger to her lips as they approached the guards. Once again, it was a different shift, though this time not one of them held his gaze for longer than a second, and the two passed through the gates without incident.

"More or less, you got it in one. If the merchants see you talking or associating with the White Fang, they'll drive your prices up just as they did ours. If you come forward as a separate buyer, however, there shouldn't be any reason for them to rob you. Provided that you're decent at haggling." Decent at haggling, indeed. Who did she think he was, John Marston? Still, it made sense to a certain point. He was new to the city, and the only ones that had seen him with the White Fang were the crooks from yesterday and the doctor, who he doubted would suddenly have an interest in the warehousing district.

"We'll need to change the order, too. If the strange cowboy from out of town comes in wanting the same materials as the Faunus Rights group, it won't take a genius to put it together." Arthur pointed out. Sienna smiled and pulled a scrap of paper from...somewhere. He tried not to look too far into her outfit, as that way would lead to some confused thoughts and no small amount of teasing. The tiger Faunus handed him the paper, and Arthur reviewed the contents. While he did, a fat pouch found itself in his other hand.

"It will take a little bit more lien for the new order, but this should cover it. When they ask for delivery, just tell them to get it outside the city near the stable. Once it is all delivered, we'll show up and take ownership. By the time the transaction is complete, they'll have no choice but to honor the deal." The clink of chains attracted Arthur's attention, and he broke his rule of searching for where and what the woman's weapon was. His eyes roamed her for a second before he realized what she was doing, though from her coy grin it was an intentional distraction.

"And if they insist on getting either money or goods back?" Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow. Sienna shrugged.

"As long as we're not the first to draw weapons, we're free to defend ourselves. Adam will be recording the pick up, so if things do get messy we will have video evidence that we are victims, not thieves." She looked down at his gun belt and back up. "Keep that in mind if things start getting tense."

"You're keeping the angry kid on camera duty? That's smart, as long as he can keep his head." Arthur thumbed his nose. "A lot can go wrong if he decides to pull his sword."

"I'll be making sure that does not come about. You just focus on keeping your story straight. Speaking of which, what will you be telling them?" Arthur scratched at his stubble for a minute, thinking it over.

"You said we had to go to Mistral, right? I figured tell them there's a town in Mistral that had some bad ways, and I found out about it here. So I decided to pick up repair materials while I was here and bring them back." Sienna nodded with a small frown.

"And what will this crisis be if they ask further? Bandits? Grimm?" Arthur stared at her for a moment, as if he expected her to continue speaking.

"Grim... what?" This time it was Sienna's turn to be surprised, before she masked it by laughing into her fist.

"Ah, I had forgotten that you are the strange cowboy from 'America'." He didn't really appreciate the use of finger quotes, though it wasn't out of any loyalty. "The Creatures of Grimm, Arthur. Did your friend not tell you about them?"  
Oh. Come to think of it, Summer had mentioned them earlier, but that had been in one of her first videos. Now that he thought about it, everything Summer had said about Huntsmen was dedicated to fighting the monsters. So used was he to fighting other people day in and day out, the concept of an evil creature was foreign to him. Still, maybe the lesson would hit home once he actually got to _see_ one of the damned things.

"She mentioned it in one of her messages, but I didn't really believe her, to be honest. It seemed pretty unreal." His response stole some of Sienna's humor, and the Faunus looked away with a little less warmth in her gaze.

"If she didn't teach you about the Grimm, then she didn't like you as much as you might think. They're a scourge on this world, the one thing we could rally against and unite humans and Faunus for a common cause. Still though, we find ways to hate each other, even with such an uncompromising enemy." Her features softened. "You truly had no Grimm where you were from?"

"None at all. The monsters I killed back home walked on two legs and looked just like you and me." He paused. "Well, maybe not like you." Sienna smirked, and it grew wider when he avoided her eyes.

"I'll take that as a compliment. Still, Grimm are the best excuse for such a large order. I agree with the story, and if things go well, I'll make sure the others corroborate it." She gestured toward the bag of lien in his hand. "That's most of the money we have, Arthur. I'm trusting you on this. Screw up, and we'll barely be able to limp home, with or without supplies."

"Don't worry about me." He tipped his hat respectfully. "I'll make sure you get what you need." With that, she nodded and stepped back into the growing morning crowd. To Arthur's surprise, the second he took his eyes off of her she disappeared completely. The gunslinger scanned the crowd for her admittedly odd attire and trademark tiger stripes, but the White Fang leader was gone.

"She's got to teach me how to do that..." He muttered.

Twenty minutes later, Arthur found himself in front of Dusty Oasis Equipment and Sales, a medium sized warehouse with a store front facing the main street. It was a ways away from the alley where they'd fought the gang the previous day, so the chances of someone recognizing him from before or seeing him with the White Fang were reduced. He still made sure to approached the building from the opposite direction of the city gate, just in case someone was being watchful.

The door opened with a chime, and Arthur was again reminded how different Vacuo was. Instead of a general store or other such where the wares were displayed all around, the store front was largely bare. Displays advertised different tools and vehicles, and there were specials on certain cuts of wood. A few other customers milled about, looking at the displays. Behind the counter was a door that obviously led deeper into the warehouse, and standing in front of it was a very bored man, wearing a blue button up shirt with sleeves rolled up and a dusty white apron. His orange hair was kept in a ponytail, and ran down to between his shoulder blades.

"Can I help you, sir?" The man livened up a little as Arthur stepped up to the counter, but only just. He still had all the enthusiasm of a week old corpse.

"Yeah, need a big order filled. Got some repairs back home, figured I'd bring the groceries with me." Arthur slid the paper Sienna had given him forward. The dead eyed man picked up the paper and read over it quickly. When he finished, the young man looked back up at Arthur.

"You mind if I hold on to this to fill the order? I'll have it back for you when we're finished." Arthur nodded, and the young man turned and walked through the door into the warehouse. While he was gone, Arthur opened the pouch of lien and began counting it out, as much to pass the time as it was to make sure just what he was working with. He came up with six thousand lien, not a small amount. Arthur sighed as he cinched the bag closed once more and waited, letting his eyes wander around the store. Unlike in America, everything here was perfectly measured and cut. He couldn't see a single screw or nail out of place. It looked... unreal, was the best way to describe it. Every building he had ever set foot in, there had been little touches here and there. A board with three nails instead of two because the underlying board had shifted, uneven floorboards because the only wood available was cut with inferior tools.

Vacuo may have been situated in the desert, but they had some decent craftsmen. And here he was, pulling wool over their eyes. To be fair, the ball was in their court to screw him over first. Sienna had chalked up their uncooperative nature to good ol' fashioned racism, but Arthur wasn't so sure. If the entire district was giving them the same raw deal, there had to be a common factor somewhere. Merchants like this were competitors, and it took a real good reason to turn away paying customers all across the board.

The door chimed again, and Arthur turned to see a middle aged man in a gray suit step in, a long duster of lighter color protecting him from the dust and dirt. The man had brown hair that was streaked with gray, close cropped and professional. He was also _massive._ Barrel chested and tall as the door frame, the man almost had to stoop to enter the store, and Arthur could only guess what he was in there for. The suit looked expensive, the coat almost as much, and someone with the kind of money to wear a suit in the desert usually had people to run to the store for them. Especially a warehouse specializing in constructions materials.

So if he wasn't there to shop, what was he there for?

The man's hazel eyes swept over Arthur for a moment, then turned and focused on the counter where the young man had turned and gone. No one was there at the moment, but surely someone had heard the chime.

"Just a moment!" A voice came from the warehouse door, and the suited man nodded slightly and crossed his arms. With nothing better to do, Arthur leaned up against the counter and was content to watch. After a few more moments of quiet waiting, a different man burst through the door with some haste, sweat beading his brow and staining his shirt. Unlike the young man from before, his hair was shorter but wild, through design or a lack of effort Arthur could not tell. Besides that and the white shirt he wore under his apron, the man could have been identical to the teen that Arthur had spoken to.

Sensing the coming storm, Arthur's hand dipped to his satchel.

"Good morning, Mr. Fields." The large man boomed, and he did so with an easy air. He spoke the words in the manner of someone who was used to getting what they wanted. He reminded Arthur of Leviticus Cornwall, and the comparison rankled the gunslinger's first impression of the man.

"Mister Winchester, good morning!" The store owner wrung his hands nervously, and though he smiled it was very clearly strained. This was not a welcome visit.

"I was just stopping in to see if you were honoring our arrangement. I see that the _unfortunates_ are still in town, so I presume you did not sell to them." It was a rhetorical question, but the Fields still nodded frantically.

_Well, there's one mystery solved._ Arthur thought, even as the Fields began rummaging around under the counter. Behind him the door opened slightly, though a hushed word got it closed quickly. In the small moment it was open, Arthur glimpsed the young man from earlier – clearly the owner's son. Gone was the apathy and laziness of earlier; in its place was a rage as the young man watched his father get pushed around by a richer man.

"I told them what you said I should. T-that I would only trust your moving company, and your prices were your own." Fields seemed well and truly panicked. Noticing the mood, the other two patrons quietly made their way to the door. Winchester watched them leave, then settled his eyes on Arthur. The gunslinger returned his look with a level stare, standing to his full height and letting his hand hover near his holster. He wasn't about to threaten a man, but he wasn't going to tolerate a shakedown either. The old Arthur Morgan was gone, and Sienna's people were relying on him. Still, Winchester had almost a foot in height and at least fifty pounds on him, if not more. Coupled with Aura, who knew how a fight would go.

"Is there something I can help you with, sir? My colleague and I were simply discussing business." Winchester said with a faux smile, all frosty politeness. It was like watching a snake try to grin.

"I've got business with him myself. Mainly things I need to help rebuild my home." Arthur kept his eyes on Winchester. "Even if I don't get it from him, he's got my list of materials. That's a call I'm not making again if I can help it."

"I'm sure it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"I consider it trouble enough." This time Arthur snarled, and Winchester's eyes narrowed dangerously. Arthur's hand inched closer to Death, his other ready to fan the hammer if this hulking brute decided to come after him. Instead, a change seemed to come over the large man, and he straightened his jacket with a cough.

"Very well then, I'll leave you to it, I suppose. Far be it from me to keep you from paying customers, Mr. Fields. Remember, I'll be back tomorrow for the month's fee." Winchester turned and held out a monstrous hand to Arthur. "I didn't catch your name, sir." Arthur looked down at the appendage as if it were diseased, and his hand never strayed from his weapon.

"I didn't give it, Mr. Winchester." Arthur bit back, and that was all he said. Sensing the hostility in his words, the large man let his hand fall with a frown. As big a brute as he was, Arthur could see the calculating look in his eyes, and knew immediately that he had made an enemy simply by not backing down.

"Very well, then. I suppose I'll be on my way." The large man made his way to the door and opened it, the bell chiming gently amid the tense situation. He stopped and looked at them both, but his focus was clearly on Arthur. "You gentlemen have a _safe_ day." And with that, he was gone. And with him, any hope of getting the goods transported out of the city.

The shop keeper visibly sagged once the threat was gone, and Arthur relaxed as well. Who knew going to the store was going to be such a strenuous affair? He turned and looked at the pale man behind the desk.

"You alright?" Fields jumped when Arthur spoke, then smiled apologetically and dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. When he finished, it came away saturated.

"My apologies, sir. Mr. Winchester is...not a man to be ignored. I assure you, my boy is gathering your materials as we speak." He hesitated. "Which gate were you wanting it taken to? We have m-many shipping opportunities as well." Despite the simpering before him, Arthur felt a tiny granule of respect and sympathy for the man. He clearly was trying to carry on as if he hadn't just been strong armed into discriminating against Faunus in broad daylight. Arthur shuffled on his feet for a moment, afraid that a stern look would cause the man to wet himself, before he finally relented with a toss of his hand.

"Just get it all collected together. My associates will handle it from there." At the mention of Arthur's help, Fields' eyes grew wide, and he began stuttering all over again.

"W-would these a-a-associates be employees of yours? I hope none of them are F-Faunus." The man clearly hated the words that passed his lips, but Arthur didn't hold them against the man. He'd just watching him get blackmailed, for God's sake.

"I don't think it much matters, Mr. Fields. They help me move my goods, I pay 'em. That's how business works." Arthur kept his voice calm. "If Mr. Winchester takes issue with how I do my business, he and I can speak about it personally." The mention of the man caused Fields to wince, and he began shaking his head.

"No, you don't understand. He controls the shipping for half of Vacuo. I can't afford to anger him, or I will be the next person he starts gouging for lien." The shop keep leaned forward across the counter, his head in his hands. "There are people watching my store at all times. If I sell to someone he doesn't like without charging them as he instructs, I'll be out on the streets before the end of the month."

That explained the fee Winchester mentioned. Nothing quite like a protection racket, and this guy had it done right. He gave Fields the illusion of choice, when really there was no choice at all.

"I'm guessing the police don't bust him up about it." Arthur growled, already anticipating the answer.

"He always uses hired thugs to do his dirty work. The few people that have tried to report him have suffered terrible 'accidents'. Houses burned down, people missing. I know Commissioner Redfield wants his head, but without proof he walks every time." Fields looked down at his hands in defeat. "It's mostly been the poor and unfortunate that he targets, but lately he has focused on the Faunus. They need my wares, I know they do, but I can't help them without charging his insane prices."

Arthur nodded with a groan, hating it for the man's misfortune. Not only that, but it impeded his efforts as well. Sienna and the White Fang were on a schedule, and Arthur didn't have any other connections to help him reach Ozpin. Somehow he doubted that helping Winchester lock down the city would yield any results. The man practically wore a shirt that said 'cheater'.

"If I got rid of the men watching your shop, would you fill the order? My people can haul it out, but I don't want to put any pressure on you." Arthur held up his hands in a sign of peace. "I really need these goods, or people back home will get hurt. I can guarantee the men outside won't know you pointed them out. I'm pretty good at handling folk like them." Fields was hamstrung; Arthur could see on his face that he wanted to take the deal, truly he did, but at the same time the man's livelihood was at stake. The deciding factor came not from Arthur or Mr. Fields, however, but from his son. The teen came from the warehouse, opening the door with vigor that Arthur judged to be rare in the young man.

"Come on, Dad. This guy has been walking all over you ever since Mom passed away. Won't it be worth it to get back some of your own?" Fields looked back and forth between Arthur and his son, and finally Arthur saw some backbone creep into the shop keeper.

"Alright." He said tiredly. "But how will you coordinate with your friends? Surely Mr. Winchester will have you followed, if not hurt." Arthur smiled at that and backed away, his hand dipping into his satchel once more.

"You just let me worry about that." When his hand came out, his scroll was in it, and Sienna Khan's face was displayed. She did not look happy. "Did you hear all that, Sienna? Sounds like we solved your mystery."

_"It most certainly does." _She hissed, and even Arthur felt a distant tremor of nervousness. _"We'll have the trucks to you in twenty minutes. I'll direct them through another gate to throw off our tails. Arthur, can you handle the men around the store?"_

"Of course." The gunslinger pressed his knuckles to his jaw, cracking them one handed as he looked down at his friend. "I'm real good at starting fights. Finishing 'em too."

_"As long as you can handle it. I'll have Adam back you up, but the two of you will have to make a separate exit. If this man has the law on his side, it could get ugly. No matter how shady he is, attacking his men in broad daylight is a crime. We don't need you locked up, and the White Fang doesn't need that kind of press right now."_ At the mention of the White Fang, Mr. Fields almost went into hysterics all over again. While he stuttered and stammered, Arthur stepped further away from the counter to hear her better.

"What about Winchester himself? You know he'll retaliate against these people." Arthur looked back, and was pleased to see that the boy was comforting his father.

_"Normally, I'd say that his fate is his own. The White Fang is a Faunus Rights Group, and cannot be bothered with every unfortunate human." _At Arthur's raised eyebrow, she sighed and rolled her eyes. _"HOWEVER, thanks to your foresight, I have a very interesting recording to send to Commissioner Redfield. Samuel Winchester will be so preoccupied with his own problems, I doubt Dusty Oasis will even cross his mind. And to think; I thought I was going to regret giving you my number."_ She finished her statement with a flirtatious wink, and Arthur looked away and cleared his throat. Yeah, not going there.

"I'll get to work then. Just make sure the boy doesn't kill anyone. This mess is complicated enough as it is." Without waiting on her reply, Arthur closed the scroll clumsily, still not used to the device. If Winchester had paid any attention, he likely would have seen what Arthur had been doing. More fool him.

"Alright then, where are the men that watch you, and how many are there?" Arthur looked out the door's window, searching for anyone out of place. Before Fields could piece himself together to respond, Arthur had already spotted a couple; two men in ratty clothing and standing at the entrance to an alley that was close to the end of the street, with the perfect view of the shop's front door. Assuming that they loaded out of the back, there were probably at least four more watching the loading dock of the warehouse, where Tukson and the others would be coming in. He didn't have much time, and it would probably be better if he finished up before Adam got there. That much anger would ruin the plan for sure, and Arthur doubted he could keep the boy in line. So much for having him record corrupt warehouse owners.

"Y'all stay down in here in case the fight gets a little spirited. Oh, and before I forget." Arthur tossed the whole money bag that Sienna had given him onto the counter, lien spilling from it and onto the wood. Both father and son stared at it as Arthur stomped towards the door. "That should cover everything and more. It sounds like you guys are going to need everything you can get."

The looks on their faces told Arthur what they were going to say, so he didn't bother sticking around to hear it. The gunslinger was out the door and crossing the street before they could say a word. He kept his peripheral vision on the two thugs, and he could tell they were watching him as well. If Winchester had been smart, he would have alerted them to his presence already. If he had just decided to buy and go, it would have been a good plan. Now, all it did was make them act suspicious on a crowded street.

"Hey, you!" Arthur shoved a finger towards the closer one, causing him to stand from where he was leaning and clench his fists. "Yeah, you! You got a permit for an ugly face like that?" The rest went according to plan.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Arthur dragged the last of the scouts into the alley way he had found the first ones at, all tied up and unconscious. Summer had given him a brief overview of Aura, but what she hadn't mentioned was that not everyone had it. One of the thugs had gotten in a lucky punch, and damn near broke his hand on Arthur's face. Really, the stuff made things entirely unfair. _And yet according to Sienna, the Grimm have pushed humanity to the brink. Makes me wonder what I'll have to fight next._ Arthur thought idly as he let the last goon fall from his shoulder, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Dusting his hands off, he finally decided to make his way back to the warehouse. As he walked, one of Sienna's trucks slowly drove past, identified by the blue cab and white walls of the trailer. Oddly enough, the white beast insignia of the White Fang was absent. Arthur decided to ask Sienna about it later, because leaving the city without incident was more pressing.

"Human." The greeting was stiff and without warmth, just like the person it came from. Arthur looked to his right as he walked, and Sienna's masked lieutenant fell into step beside him. That Arthur hadn't even noticed Adam until he had announced himself was a little distressing, given the boy's extreme views toward humanity. Still, he was an ally for now.

"Adam. I hope you didn't get that blade of yours wet; I took down all of the scouts I could find _without_ killing them." Arthur stressed the word with a look, and Adam scoffed.

"So you're saying you didn't notice the other three I had to take out? You're not as formidable as Sienna claims." It was meant to be an insult, but Arthur didn't have anything to prove to the little upstart. If he wanted to turn every little thing into a dick measuring contest, that was his business. Arthur wasn't competing.

"I'm only one man, kid. That's the thing about working together. It's how you take down things too big to do alone." Adam looked away from him as they turned the corner, finding the other three trucks and most of the White Fang loading them up. The same way that the White Fang symbols were absent, so too were the uniforms of the White Fang. Everyone was in their plain clothes, handling the materials with care. Adam noticed Arthur's confused look and crossed his arms.

"Sienna decided to make your plan more believable by dressing the part. We covered our symbols on the trucks, and anyone who asks is told we work for Arthur Morgan." A hard edge crept into the teen's voice. "Tell everyone that we work for a human, and they turn a blind eye. Typical." Arthur suppressed the urge to smack the boy in the mouth. Judging by how much respect he paid to his sword, the Faunus would remove Arthur's hand before it ever got close to his face.

"Just focus on why we're telling that lie. Lots of people on Menagerie need these supplies. If all it takes is a little labor and some deception, ain't it worth it?" Adam shook his head as they reached the trucks, and together the two pitched in and started lifting boxes and long boards of wood.

"First you tell me that our methods mean everything, then you say that the ends justify the means. Which is it, human? Or are you just a hypocrite like the rest of your kind?" Adam snarked, grunting as they pushed a heavy stack of wood into one of the trucks. This time Arthur took a deep breath and counted to ten; he knew the boy was baiting him, and it would be poor form to start a fight now.

"You're cherry pickin' my words and you know it. You should do what you can to accomplish your goals, but don't sacrifice the good in yourself to do it. There is always another way." Arthur took the respite of walking back into the warehouse to roll up his sleeve, showing the scar where Colm O'Driscoll's boys had shot him point blank with a shotgun. "The man responsible for this tortured me for two days, hung me up and whipped me and left me to starve. That doesn't mean I went after him for revenge." Arthur rolled the sleeve back down when they reached the pallets of supplies and stooped to pick up a box. He handed it to Adam, who took it with a grunt, before grabbing his own.

"Men like that find their own ruin, and it's usually because people aren't as bad as you're trying to make 'em out to be. If you wanna judge humanity by the worst examples, then should I do the same to you? Should I condemn your entire race because of a few rapists and murderers?" Adam turned and walked toward the trucks without comment, and Arthur had to hustle to catch of with him. It was the first conversation he'd had with the coarse little shit, and he'd be damned if he lost what momentum he had because the boy stomped off.

"I've seen far more evil at the hands of humans than Faunus." Adam defended, slowing up once he got closer to the truck. He and Arthur stood as the line formed, waiting their turn.

"That's because that's all you're looking for, son." Arthur reasoned. "You telling me that not a single human's ever done anything nice for you? Never held a door, offered food, said hello or anything?" Adam didn't respond, but judging by the uncomfortable look he wore, he was at least listening.

"That doesn't change the evil that has been done. If I don't act, then nothing will change. Are suggesting that I just lie down and take it like a good little dog?" The boy loved to twist words when he got frustrated, that was for sure.

"No one should take things like that and not defend themselves, but where does defending yourself become hurting random people just because they're different than you? You can't just act like the people that hurt you and expect everything to work out. That doesn't make you a hero, it makes you a monster. And monsters don't save anybody. They just kill and hurt and ravage until someone finally puts them down."

"Maybe I'm not the monster? What about the SDC? Who's going to come along and take THEM down?!" Adam demanded, almost throwing his box down and startling the monkey Faunus about to take it from him. Arthur apologized for him and set his own down gently, seeing as how Adam was too angry to notice.

"Sienna. The White Fang. _You, _if you keep your head on straight." Arthur spread his arms wide, gesturing all around them. "Look at today. Some big bully came along and tried to make things rough for your people. He hurt some innocent folk because he thinks he knows better. Enter the White Fang. Not only did you save a _human_ run store, but they're defying this big bad bully to help _your_ people. That's what it takes: cooperation. You can't murder and steal cooperation; you can only buy it for so long, and forcing it through fear would make you no better than Schnee and Winchester." The comparison made Adam's nose wrinkle, and Arthur could tell he was at least causing the boy to think.

"Don't make a decision today. Hell, I'm not even asking you to change. Be your own man, do what you feel is right. But if you start killing in the name of vengeance, then people like the SDC and the son of a bitch we dealt with today will own you, just in a different way. You will be a monster, and they will be responsible. Is that something you want to be?" Arthur stepped away from the trucks, watching the last few Faunus load them and start strapping down the materials. Apparently, these things were a bit faster than horses, and running away was a common tactic when faced with large numbers of Grimm. For his sake and Famine's, he hoped it never came to that.

"I will...consider your words, human." Adam ground out. He turned to go, but Arthur reached out and grabbed his shoulder. The Faunus stiffened, his hand dropping to his katana on instinct, but it was not a weapon Arthur held out towards him. It was not a gun or a knife, which he knew Arthur had plenty of both. It was an open hand.

"Arthur." The gunslinger said firmly. "My name is Arthur Morgan. Not human. I've called you by your name since I met you. I hope you can at least return the favor." Adam stared down at his hand, looked back up at Arthur's honest face, then reluctantly shook it. His grip was strong, but he released his hand almost as quickly as he had taken it. With that, the two stepped further apart and watched at the trucks slowly began to pull out.

Sienna slowly made her way to them as the last of the White Fang loaded up. She didn't come alone, however. To Arthur's surprise, the tiger Faunus had Famine trailing behind her, his reins in her hand. Arthur had seen others try to bring Famine to him, with mixed results. The horse was leery of people, and had even tried to bite Micah one time (not that Arthur would have cared, except to perhaps brush the horse's teeth afterwards). To see Sienna leading his horse with so little trouble, Arthur could only shake his head. The woman had no end to her charms.

"How the hell did you get him past the gate?" Arthur asked as she handed Famine's reins to him, patting the horse's neck for good measure. The horse nickered and pushed his snout into Arthur's shoulder.

"I asked the guards if I could bring him with me since we were leaving straight out. They told me to have him out of the city before sundown. Mickey says hi, by the way." Arthur nodded, then started as he remembered something.

"I needed to get my refund from him. I paid the boy for two nights and..." A couple lien cards were slapped onto his chest, held there by Sienna's lingering hand until he took them. "Uh, thanks I guess?" He pocket the money as Sienna focused on Adam.

"Is everything loaded?" The bull Faunus nodded, and it occurred to Arthur that he'd never seen the teen smile. Not once. It did not bode well for one as young as he. But Arthur reminded himself that the boy was Sienna's to teach, not his. He had done more than his part, and that would have to be enough.

"The trucks are ready to head out. We're waiting on your word." Adam reported dutifully. He looked about to say more, but his head tilted in a way that suggested he heard something. Sienna's ears flicked as well, the rings at the bases of them jingling faintly as she too listened closely. Arthur strained to hear whatever it was they were listening to, but his inferior human hearing couldn't pick anything up. In fact, he couldn't hear anything. None of the people in the streets or shops, not even...

Arthur looked around, and noted that with the exception of a few hooded people, the streets were silent and deserted. It caused a shiver to crawl up his spine, an instinctive reaction that he had ignored due to Sienna's arrival. It was a reaction honed from years in the wilderness, for when the woods grew quiet and the birds too afraid to sing.

_Ambush._

_ (Begin playing _**Outlaw Justice** _by Blues Saraceno.)_

"Get the trucks out of here!" Sienna ordered, and Adam stepped back just in time to avoid a round from a rifle. It came from up high, likely in the surrounding buildings, but the shot was like ringing the dinner bell. From all sides, a cacophony of gunfire roared into the silent streets. Rounds pinged off of the truck, and the White Fang cried out as they dove for cover. Adam stood his ground however, and to Arthur's absolute shock actually blocked more than a few bullets sent his way. With a sword!

Sienna's approach was far more practical, in his opinion. Her shoulder dug into his gut as she pushed him up against the wall of the warehouse. Behind them, Famine reared and whinnied, threatening to bolt as the fight grew even louder and more chaotic. Keeping Arthur pinned up against the wall much to his displeasure, Sienna turned to Adam and barked her orders.

"GO! Defend the convoy! We'll get out another way!" She instructed, and together she and Arthur sank into crouches. The gunslinger drew his two revolvers as Adam turned and sprinted toward the trucks to carry out his leader's instructions, batting rounds out of the air as he went. Regardless of what Arthur could say about his motives, the boy was good. Still, he wasn't going to be shown up by some whelp with a sword. Taking aim at the buildings on their side of the warehouse, Arthur cocked the hammers of Life and Death and sighted up on the windows. The bricks around his head exploded in shrapnel as a few bullets sought his head, and Arthur returned fire. He watched his rounds sink into the forearm of a man on the second floor and the thigh of a woman on the roof. Both toppled to the ground with howls of pain and dropped their weapons.

With his cover fire and Adam's support, all of the trucks pulled out and hurried down the road, ignoring speed limits and screaming pedestrians as they fled to safety. Unfortunately, Famine followed after them, leaving Arthur and Sienna stranded.

"They don't have Aura, Sienna!" Arthur yelled, even as the tiger Faunus ducked and raced along the wall toward the warehouse doors. With a sweep of her arm, the chain blade that she had been hiding for so long finally came free, and the point at its end flashed as it severed the door's pulley chain. Without it, the doors rolled shut with a loud crash, and would not be opened until the damage was repaired. It was a sloppy way to protect the shop keeper and his son, but they didn't have time for finesse.

In the same movement that closed the doors, spun and wrapped her chain around the neck of a thug that had decided to rush her with a rusty machete. The man grasped the chain and dropped his sword as he gasped for breath, leaving him vulnerable to be pulled in close and knocked unconscious with a vicious uppercut from the tiger Faunus. She flicked her wrist and stepped back, allowing the chain to loosen and uncoil from around his neck before the man hit the ground.

"I noticed! We need to get out of here, Arthur!" Sienna responded, extending more of her chain and making it weave an intricate dance around her, somehow using it to block the incoming rounds. It helped that the thugs weren't the greatest shots, especially with their allies closing in to the melee, but that she could stop even a single bullet using some kind of battle chain was absolutely unreal.

"Screw that! We head out when the police are on their way!" Arthur yelled back, sending another pair of shooters to the ground with holes in their shoulders. He cocked the hammers once more and turned the corner toward the front of the store, and barely got Death up to stop a man from entering. Two shots to the knee ended his nefarious plans, even as the man screamed in agony.

"We're wanted by a crime lord in the city he controls! You think the police will be of help?" She called back, and he could faintly hear the sound of bone on meat. Whomever had decided to engage her in melee was paying for the idea. Arthur pulled some rounds from his belt and dropped them into Life, then holstered it and did the same for Death.

"If we leave now, we abandon the Fields to these lowlifes, and I didn't convince them to help us only to turn tail and run!" He responded, and sprinted toward another man wielding a club with some barbed wire wrapped around it. What he did next, he would have never considered without Aura. Pushing the magical power into his feet, the gunslinger vaulted well over fifteen feet into the air, pointing Death down on the thug that just stared up at him. Time slowed once more, and much more noticeably this time, allowing Arthur to line up his shot. The world faded to that same golden hue, and Arthur was easily able to line up his revolver with the grip of the man's club. When he fired time resumed, and Arthur landed behind the man and watched as he stared at the ruins of his weapon with a dumbfounded expression. The thug finally turned to see Arthur pointing his gun at him.

"I think I'm just gonna go home." The man said slowly, raising his hands and dropping the shattered remains of his club. Arthur smirked and twisted Death away, allowing the man to sprint from the fight. As soon as he turned, however, a much larger thug in a sleeveless shirt and cargo pants punched him across the face, knocking the gunslinger for a loop. Even though his Aura had taken the blow, it had been powerful enough to make Arthur sink to one knee. Rubbing his jaw, he spit the excess saliva from his mouth and holstered Death, standing to his full height even as he heard the gunfire start to dwindle.

"You came to the wrong city, cowpoke." The thug said menacingly, cracking his knuckles for good measure. "Now I gotta teach you some manners."

"You remind me of the last guy that called me that." Arthur thumbed his nose and brought up his fists. "I didn't like him much neither." The two slowly closed toward each other, Arthur keeping his eyes on the man's chin. With his focus there, any movement on the man's part could be seen in his peripheral vision. They both hesitated, each watching the other for the first move. Arthur decided to move first, throwing his arms out for a second in a fake out to see if it would get the thug to engage. Unsurprisingly, it worked.

With a grunt, the man threw a wide punch toward Arthur's head, which the gunslinger blocked with his forearm. Before he could retract the arm, Arthur sent two straight punches into the man's nose, and tried to follow up with an uppercut to put him down. He used his Aura like he had before, but the man didn't fall like the others had. He blocked Arthur's uppercut and snarled, returning one that the gunslinger could only just side step. _This guy has Aura too!_ It was foolish to think that every thug coming at them would be as ill equipped, but this would be the first person with Aura that Arthur had fought.

The two traded blows once more, and the pain Arthur was used to in such brawls seemed muted. He definitely felt the man's fist crash into his stomach, and the force of it pushed him back a few feet, but what normally would have had him grunting and spitting now only slightly winded him. Unlike his opponent, Arthur was used to taking punches without any Aura to protect him. With that in mind, Arthur changed strategies.

Instead of the measured beatdown he usually handed out, Arthur ignored blocking almost altogether and instead chose to turn the man's face into hamburger as fast as possible. What followed could not be called a fight, an altercation, or even a brawl. The two men planted their feet and just started beating the hell out of each other. Arthur hammered the thug in the face and received a kick to the gut. The man landed a right hook to his face, and Arthur drove his foot down onto the man's knee. As each blow landed, a loud crack filled the air from the strength of it. Looking back later, Arthur was more than surprised that the ground hadn't broken from the force of each hit.

The trade off ended when Arthur continued a punch into a tackle and forced the thug onto the ground, mounting his chest and raining down blows. The thug tried to block the first few, but after catching enough in the chin and face a strange light covered his body. That light broke apart, looking like a torn net as far as Arthur was concerned, and the next hit drew blood. A lot of it.

Arthur's fist crashed into the man's nose, breaking it and sending blood all down the man's front. For the first time since the fight started, the thug's eyes rolled from the force of the hit, and his arms flopped down at his sides. Arthur nodded in satisfaction and stood up, looking at his hand to see if the same phenomenon would affect him as well. Thankfully, he still glowed faintly with Aura, meaning his hadn't run out yet.

"So that's what that looks like." He muttered, then turned to see how the rest of the fight was going. What few goons he could see that were still conscious were limping away slowly, the rest lay bleeding and groaning on the dusty ground. From what he could see, though, none of them had been killed. Sienna came from around the corner, a light sheen of sweat signifying that she had gotten something of a workout. Arthur wiped his brow as well, cursing the heat of the desert.

"They're running now, and the police are on their way." She warned. "If we're going to leave this city, we need to do it now, Arthur." The gunslinger nodded, then put his fingers to his lips and let out a quick whistle. An answering whinny filled the air, and Famine came trotting out from a small street near the store, tossing his head in frustration. The horse was smart enough to know that guns were bad, and he'd hidden close enough to hear Arthur's whistle.

"Well mount up then. Can't get your people their supplies if we're sitting in a jail cell." Even as he said that, blue uniformed officers with similar head wraps to the gate guards began pouring in from the main street, weapons raised. Arthur hauled himself up into the saddle with a curse, holding his hand out for Sienna to take. She looked at him for a moment as if to ask if he were serious, but the decision was made for her when the police began shouting for them to stop. She grabbed his hand and hauled herself up, wrapping one arm around his torso as she used the other to pull out her scroll.

"Let's ride!" She yelled in his ear, and Arthur was a little put down as he tugged on the reins and dug in his heels, setting Famine off at a good clip towards the city gate. _That's usually my line..._

People heard Famine's hooves slamming into the ground and got out of the way, their eyes wide with panic as the horse plowed through the city. Two right turns and one left, and the main gate was in sight. The gate guards must have gotten the word to stop them, as all four were blocking the entrance and had swords drawn.

"Hold on, this is gonna get rough!" Arthur roared, and spurred Famine again. The horse's shrill screech was loud on the wind as he increased his speed even further, and Arthur could see the guards shifting nervously.

"Stop!" One of them cried. "We just need a statement!" But by the time he finished his sentence, the guards had separated enough for Arthur to break through, and they were out into the desert. Behind him, Sienna was yelling into her scroll.

"The owners of Dusty Oasis saw the whole thing, Commissioner. You can ask them what happened." Arthur couldn't hear the response over galloping hooves, but he did hear Sienna's frustrated growl. It was much lower and more animalistic than he'd heard most women make.

"I don't care about coming in! You want us to spend a night in lock up in the city where we just offended a crime lord? I don't care how many loyal men you have, the White Fang cannot afford to lose people in a city infested with corruption. If you need a statement, a testimony, or even a Gods damned interview, you can come find me in Menagerie." Arthur heard a click, and it was followed by a heavy sigh. "You can stop running now. The Commissioner won't continue the chase will all those wounded at the store."

Arthur followed her instructions and pulled back a little on the reins, slowing Famine from a furious gallop to a steady trot. Sienna pocketed her scroll and wrapped her free hand around his midsection. Arthur said nothing, preferring to let them both calm down following the ambush. He'd been in many a fight, but his blood was still pumping from such a hair raising ambush. The two just stared ahead for a while, watching the sand dunes rise and fall as they put some distance between themselves and the city. When Arthur asked which direction they should go, Sienna simply pointed west.

Time passed quickly like that, just riding at a gentle trot toward the sea where the White Fang had chartered a boat. They still had a day to reach the coast, and Sienna's relaxed composure told Arthur that they didn't have far to go. Once enough time had passed, Arthur finally broke the silence.

"So, all of your grocery shopping go like that? Or am I just the lucky exception?" Arthur felt as much as heard her chuckle, a wash of breath running down his neck as she readjusted.

"Not usually, though we don't save down-on-their-luck shopkeepers either, so today wasn't all bad." She paused. "As long as none of our people were seriously hurt, I'll call it a success. Who knows what Vacuo will have to say about us before the day is out." The desert wind cut across them, forcing Arthur to dig the handkerchief out of his vest and use it as a mask. Sienna had no such protection, and instead just buried her face in Arthur's back. The alligator leather was warm to the touch, but still a few shades cooler than the desert itself.

"I hope I didn't cause you too much trouble. The White Fang seem like they need some good publicity." Arthur said, his voice apologetic. "I'm not usually the one for public relations." This time, Sienna laughed out loud.

"Oh, you did just fine, don't worry. The authorities have damning evidence against a racist crime boss, the Dusty Oasis shop will be free to conduct business without threat of harassment, quite a few criminals are in jail, and no one can take away that it was the White Fang that did it." He raised a brow, and she though she couldn't see it she interpreted his silence for curiosity. "It may have been thanks to you, Arthur, but it was the White Fang that everyone saw trading shots with those thugs. Normally that would be a serious sign of criminal activity, but the Commissioner will use that recording I sent him to demonize Winchester. That coupled with the shopkeeper's testimony, and we'll be golden."

"Well... you're welcome then. I usually don't have such a good outcome when things get violent. Usually there's a lot more hiding and law running." He was honestly surprised that things had gone so smoothly. Vacuo was strange, almost alien, but he was an old hand at watching plans go horribly wrong. In fact, almost all of Dutch's bigger jobs went bust and one point or another. Sienna either had better luck or she was a far better planner.

"I can't say it went according to plan. At first, I thought the shopkeepers themselves were the problem. It never occurred to me that they might be pressured from the outside. With Winchester in dire straights, things will be better for Faunus in Vacuo as well." She shrugged. "In the end, we accomplished our mission and furthered the White Fang's cause. It couldn't have gone any better."

Not usually something he heard about a shootout in the middle of town, but Arthur wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead, he said nothing and continued riding west, something he had no problems with.

Two hours of riding passed, with little small talk between the two. The desert sand made it difficult to carry on a conversation when it was diving down your throat, and the sweltering sun removed any urge to be social anyway. Sienna had shifted to a more comfortable position on Famine's back, relying on her own feline grace and balance instead of clinging to Arthur. A steady pressure at his mid back told him that she still held onto his belt though.

The sun had mercifully started to set when Sienna asked him to stop. Famine nearly shook from the exertion of a such a run, and it took two mouthfuls of water from Arthur's canteen before the horse finally settled down. Almost instinctively, Arthur pulled his brush from the saddlebags and began cleaning the dust from the horse's dark coat. Sienna climbed down on her own, ignoring the offered hand with a sniff. When she landed in the soft desert sand, however, the Faunus winced and rubbed her back.

"You _really_ need a second seat on that saddle, otherwise I'll be crippled by the time we reach the coast." She complained, though Arthur didn't take it personally. He wasn't really used to those saddles, and he'd need a fair bit of pelts to make the adjustments she suggested.

"I'll keep that in mind for when I make some upgrades." Was all he said, too focused on the task at hand to offer anything more. While he brushed the dirt from Famine's flanks, Sienna poked around the other items on his saddle. His shotgun and rifle, the collection of strange and engraved knives. There was even a broken pirate sword and a three cornered hat. In another, smaller pouch, gold nuggets and jewelry of all kinds. A folded letter contained a small golden ring, a tiny jewel perched on top of it. It caught Sienna's eye, not by the size or the value but just because it seemed to carry so much extra weight to it than the others. Unlike the others, the small ring shone brightly as if it had been recently polished. She stared at the small ring for another moment, then closed the pouch before Arthur could catch her snooping.

"See anything you like?" Or not. Arthur's voice came from the other side of the horse, though Sienna heard a faint tone of amusement. She shrugged and figured that if she'd been caught, might as well ask.

"You have so many strange things with you. The weapons, I understand, but a big emerald? An old watch? There have to be some stories there." She heard him chuckle and barely saw the top of his hat nod.

"Yeah, there's quite a tale for just about all of them. Any in particular you want to ask about?" She felt the air shift and moved without thinking, dodging back from the horse as an old hat landed lightly in the sand. "Here. It's not good to stay uncovered in the desert like that." Sienna stooped and picked up the hat, dusting the sand from it as she examined it.

There was nothing particularly special about it. The rough brown leather told her it was old and weathered, with a single band of snake skin wrapped around the base. It had a wider brim than most hats she had worn, but the tried it on anyway. The smell of leather and sweat hit her as it covered her ears, though thankfully the band around the base stopped the hat from sinking too low. Her ears lowered slightly, but the hat didn't crush them as painfully as she expected. It was still a tight fit, but she could tolerate it when the sun rose the next day. Unless...

"You mind of I alter it a bit?" Sienna walked around Famine's front and took the hat off. When Arthur gave her a look, she just pointed to her ears and he understood.

"I've had that hat since my first day in Valentine. It's an old bulldog hat, and has seen its share of blood and nastiness. If a few cuts make it useful, be my guest." Arthur shrugged as he said it, and went back to brushing down Famine. Sienna let one of her chain daggers free and considered the hat, weighing the pros and cons of damaging one of his hats for just one day of protection. Still, she'd had her ears burned once before, and it was not something she looked forward to doing again. And besides, it was an old hat anyway.

With a few small cuts, Enough room was made in the old hat for the tips of her ears to poke out. This way, the sensitive skin on the inside of her ears would be protected from the harsh sunlight, not to mention the shade offered by such a hat. Her only complaint was that it did not match her outfit. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and it was only for a day. As Arthur put the brush up and patted his loyal companion, Sienna pulled on the hat and gave him a wink.

"What do you think?" She asked expectantly. Arthur grinned and barked out a short laugh, covering his smile with his fist in an effort to stop from laughing at her. Even though she clearly noticed, the Faunus wasn't the type of woman to have her feelings hurt so easily.

"Well now, all we need to do is get you a gun belt and some spurs and you'll be robbing trains with the rest of us outlaws." Arthur laughed even as she punched his arm lightly, though he noted it still stung more than it would have if Sadie or Mary Beth had done so. "I can see it now: Sienna Khan, terror of the West and Queen of the Outlaws. Long may she reign." That got her to scoff and remove the hat, which she didn't really need anyway. The setting sun would bring with it a new set of difficulties, and a hat wouldn't do much to alleviate them.

"Are all cowboys as goofy as you, or are you an exception?" She prodded, slapping the altered hat into his chest. Arthur turned with it, shielding the bulldog from further damage and setting it on the horn of his saddle for later. After they got camp set up, he'd give it back to her.

"I'm far from normal in most meanings of the word. Case in point, I'm on another continent that I've never heard of, helping a people that I did not know existed." Arthur pulled the bedroll from his saddle and started digging around for some tinder. The desert was no so sparse as to just contain sand, but if he could avoid spending an hour searching for twigs, he would. He started digging for another roll, a thinner one that he would likely take, when Sienna stopped him. Her hand on his arm drew his attention from the saddle to her, and she shook her head at the second roll.

"We won't be needing that." Arthur's eyes flitted from the hand on his shoulder to the roll, and Sienna could only laugh as he visibly came to the wrong conclusion.

"Uh..." The Faunus stepped back and swept her hand around the local area.

"We'll need to keep watch for Grimm." She explained, making Arthur feel foolish for assuming anything else. "I'll take the first watch, if you don't mind. I like to use the time to clear my head."

"Yeah, that's fine. You still want me to make a fire? I've got some preserved stuff if you'd rather we go without." He tried to keep the grimace out of his voice, but Sienna heard nonetheless.

"A fire should be fine. Grimm are attracted to negative emotions. If the rule is true, a fire will do us more harm than good. They're more likely to find us if we're miserable than if we have a light source." That made very little sense, but the Grimm were something Arthur knew very little about. Accepting the explanation in hope of a more in depth illumination later, Arthur started making a fire pit with the sand and the materials he had available. While he did that, Sienna pulled her scroll out and began leafing through documents of some kind.

Arthur got the tinder set up inside of the small indention he made in the sand a safe distance away from the rest of the camp supplies. He placed two logs he had squirreled away for a time like this in the circle, then arranged the tinder evenly so that the fire would start. He pulled flint and steel from his pack and began stropping the two together, shooting sparks into the base of the stack. After a few tries, the fire began crackling and smoking. Arthur fanned the flame a little then sat back, confident that the dry wood had no problem igniting on its own.

"I've got some meat left over from when I was in Lemoyne. It should still be good, and there's more spices in my saddlebags." Arthur said as he set up the small iron grill. "It's no restaurant food, but you'll like it better than a sand sandwich." He fished out two slabs of venison, heavily seasoned and salted for long trips. Tearing into the smaller one with his teeth, Arthur tossed the larger piece to Sienna, who caught it with ease. He watched as her nose twitched, no doubt detecting the different scents of the spices with far better ability than he ever could.

"Mint? You added mint of all things?" She didn't sound like she was complaining, more surprised than anything. Arthur swallowed the bite he was working on and nodded.

"It was a common enough plant back home, and it gives enough of a kick to make you forget you're eating salted meat. Can't do anything for the texture, but it's worth the effort of scavenging for." She gave him a dubious look, and he shook a finger at her as if he were scolding a child. "Ah ah, eat and _then_ judge, missy."

Sienna raised an eyebrow at the gesture, before she finally focused back on the steak. Cautiously, she slowly bit into the meat, her eyes widening as the spices met her tongue. She visibly shivered, clearly enjoying the mix, though her expression was a thoughtful one.

"Not bad at all. I wish you had some fresher meat, but this is far better than I had first thought." Sienna punctuated her statement with another bite. Arthur grunted and devoured his quickly, washing it down with a valuable gulp of water from his canteen. He'd normally have a pull of whiskey, but alcohol was dangerous in the desert. The sun would be working hard all day tomorrow to dry him out, so he didn't need to help it out any.

"If I can hunt some decent game, you'd be surprised what I can whip up." Arthur bragged. "I'm a regular trail chef. Nothing like Mr. Pearson, but I do more than just make do. Spent too many nights hungry to tolerate otherwise." As Sienna continued to enjoy the venison, he dug into his satchel and removed the small container of pills, taking another dose and stowing it in little time.

"Well, I for one am glad to have such a weathered veteran cowboy to keep me warm and fed." Sienna leaned back with a sigh, enjoying the warmth of the fire. The sun had gone down quite a bit, and the temperature plummeted along with it. Arthur felt the cold creep in and shuffled a little close to the fire, noticing that Sienna seemed perfectly at home in the cold. Or at least, she acted like it. When she caught his stare, the tiger Faunus crossed her arms and smirked.

"What? Do I look like I need someone to chase the cold away?" Arthur snorted at that.

"Just wondering how you can wear a get up like that and not feel the least bit cold." He replied honestly. Sienna stared at him for a few moments, then finally looked away.

"I'm used to the cold. I didn't exactly bring a jacket, and the fire should be more than sufficient." She heard Arthur shuffling around, and was only partly surprised when her head was covering by something very warm and soft. Sienna snatched the object off of her head, her ears flicking in irritation (HA!) as she held it up with one hand. A long, thick coat hung from her grasp, slate gray and lined with wolf fur. It smelled earthy, and the fur lining was wonderfully soft.

"If you're going to be watching my back, I want you to be comfortable. No sense sitting around being miserable for a few hours if you don't have to." Arthur explained gruffly, pulling on a brown leather hunting jacket. It didn't match his shirt and vest at all, but she doubted the gunslinger particularly cared at this point. Still, the gesture was kind, and she reluctantly slid the coat around her. The tail of it trailed the ground, so different were they in height, but he was right. It was definitely warmer than the cold night air. The coat was heavy and warm, and Sienna was forced to stand up and step away from the fire lest she drift off into sleep.

Arthur laid out on his bed roll next to the fire and watched her, even as Famine settled down next to him. The horse nickered and bumped the gunslinger's head, knocking his hat off and earning a swat on the flank. Chuckling at his companion's cheek, Arthur grabbed his hat and put it on his head, slumped forward to cover his eyes.

"Wake me when you need me." He said with a groan. Sienna didn't respond, just watched him as his breathing slowed, and the tension in his shoulders slowly relaxed. Whether it was the antibiotics knocking him out or his general hardiness, Arthur seemed capable of sleeping in even the most uncomfortable of places. It really was quite the sight. When she had been young, she'd read about cowboys sleeping on the plains, fighting Grimm and corralling their livestock in an effort to scrape a living out of hard times. Never in her life would she have imagined sharing camp with one, and she definitely never thought he would be a friend. Still, if she could call Arthur anything at this point, it would be friend.

Despite what Adam might believe, humans like Arthur were not terribly uncommon, but most of them were too bothered by change and discomfort to help in the movement. The White Fang was crippled as much by the actions of a few evil humans as it was by the inaction of a great many good ones. Adam would have said that anyone not with the White Fang was against them, but Sienna knew it was not so binary. Most people had their own problems, their own families, and were rightfully more concerned with protecting their own interests before they would borrow someone else's troubles. The key to change, however, was stirring those same people from their comfortable lives and getting them to act. It was why she had been so happy to bring Arthur along on their adventure.

He'd been so willing to help, at first she had suspected him of being an agent, either of the SDC or some gang's enforcer. When he continued to help without thought of reward, however, she had been surprised. It was simply not done, putting oneself in danger without expecting some kind of compensation, and yet Arthur had done so willingly. And even now, he had gifted her a hat and loaned her a coat simply because the knowledge of her being cold would make him uncomfortable. The White Fang had few friends, but Sienna considered Arthur Morgan to be one of them. Even with his strange ordeal and the task he was attempting to carry out, this strange gunslinger straight from a story book had done more for her in two days than most humans had in their whole lives.

Sienna continued to brood on her new friend, clutching the coat around her as dusk turned to night. No Grimm encroached on their camp that night, and she was uncharacteristically quiet when she woke Arthur up a few hours later.

When the two packed up the next morning, Arthur was reminded that his store of preserved food was beginning to run low. A few handfuls of grapes and some grilled iguana hardly made for a proper breakfast, but Sienna was confident that they were close to the shore. All Arthur could see was blue sky and hardened, dry earth, but he took her word for it. It took him a few minutes to pack up camp, but by nine o'clock they were moving. Sienna sat comfortably on Famine's back, seated better now that they weren't fleeing armed thugs. The shade of her borrowed hat and Arthur's extra blankets under her made a difference as well. She kept a hand on his belt, though Famine's leisurely trot made it more for comfort than danger of falling off. She had smirked and joked like they had done for the past few days, but the ride to the coast was surprisingly quiet. The cat had her tongue, and Arthur was content to let her think out whatever she was grappling with. Every few hundred yards, he'd turn to get a glimpse of the Faunus leader, and every time her brow had been furrowed and her eyes distant.

Arthur knew that look well, seeing it on Dutch's face time and again. Regardless of their social interaction, Arthur reminded himself that Sienna was in charge of the White Fang, or at least this part of it. His understanding of the organization as a whole was a little vague, but the respectful way that her fellow members treated her indicated that Sienna carried some form of rank. Even Adam, the angry little teenager that he was, had ceded authority to her on several occasions while Arthur had watched. And here she was, without her people and desperately hoping that things were going to go smoothly.

Back in America, Arthur had been discreetly asked by both Uncle and Charles about why he was so against taking command of the gang. His initial answer had been because of his faith in Dutch, but the more Arthur had thought about it, the more he realized that he wasn't meant to lead. Arthur could run errands and handle disputes well enough, but the constant pressure of ensuring everyone's safety and well-being would destroy him for sure. He'd run raids, robberies, and hold ups as smoothly as glass, but when the job was done he had been more than happy to defer to Dutch in all things. Some men might have considered that weakness, but some men did not understand the responsibilities of leadership. How Dutch had managed it for so long before the cracks began to show, Arthur couldn't fathom.

_Maybe he didn't._ Arthur thought to himself, a frown crossing his face. _Maybe he started falling apart up on the mountain, and we only just noticed it because of how good he is at acting. He pulled wool over people's eyes for years running with us, is it too much to think that he did to same to me?_ The thought did little to brighten his mood, and the gunslinger dismissed it with a shake of his head. A cool breeze caressed his face as they came up on a small hill, it carried the faint smell of salt. Over the sound of Famine's heavy foot falls, Arthur thought he could hear the distant crash of waves. Sienna perked up as well, or at least if felt like she did since her grip on his belt tightened.

"I think we're close." Arthur stated before she could start harassing him. From what he knew of the woman, she was probably eager to get back to her people. He felt as much as heard her shift around, and the brim of her hat bumped against his as she pulled her scroll from a pocket he _still_ didn't know where. The screen tapped quietly as she typed commands, and a quiet chime returned her message after a few moments. Arthur felt his hair ruffle as she released a breath, and her arm came over his should to point about fifteen degrees to their right.

"Adjust course and head that way. The pier should be on the other side of this hill. Adam says that most of the cargo has been loaded, and that they were waiting for us." There was a small note of surprise in her voice as she said the last part, and Arthur cocked a brow.

"What? You thought they was gonna leave us or something?" His tone indicated that he thought it was a joke, but Sienna didn't immediately correct him.

"No, it's just... Adam is an ambitious young man, and I know he's seeking the most immediate solution to our problems. If he felt replacing me could further the goals of the White Fang, I don't think we're good enough friends for him to pass up the opportunity." Sienna said guiltily, obviously feeling bad about thinking such unkind things about the young Faunus. "Maybe I was wrong about him..."

"Listen Sienna." Arthur interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "That boy wants a lot of things, and he wants them bad. That comes natural when you lose what you have and think you've been wronged. He doesn't like me at all, but even I can tell that he respects you. He may pull a hissy fit every now and then, but I think you're someone he trusts." Arthur rolled his shoulders and tossed his head with a chuckle. "Now, if you want someone he doesn't like, I think I fit that bill better than you ever will."

Sienna slapped his shoulder and chuckled, but he could tell she still wasn't quite over her apprehension. Oh well, he had done what he could for now. Maybe reuniting with her team would bring her back into better spirits. As they crested the hill, the pier sat right where she had said it would.

Apparently, Vacuo was a little different from America, being that there wasn't the telltale signs of civilization around the port access. The coast ran for miles in either direction, with little that Arthur could see in the way of rocks or coral. With nothing to stop a ship's crew from simply rowing to shore, the only need for a pier was for heavier cargo to be loaded and unloaded. As such, a small warehouse sat at the end of a small wooden dock, stripes of paint flaking off of it and not terribly crowded. In Lemoyne, the trading post heading towards Annesburg had boast at least fifty semi-permanent residents, but from the looks of the warehouse Arthur doubted that more than ten saw the pier in a month.

Today was a marked exception, of course, since the White Fang's trucks were all around it. Docked and lashed next to the warehouse was a medium sized cargo ship, maybe five hundred feet long. Two rows of portholes sat above the waterline, indicating crew and passenger quarters, but the main hold had no such windows. There was less a wheelhouse and more an entire bridge at the after of the ship, but the upper deck was remarkably flat. Arthur wondered where all the cranes and pulleys were to lower goods into the hold, but it wasn't something to consider while on horseback. Arthur gave Famine an insistent squeeze with his legs, and the horse picked up its pace and began descending the hill towards the pier.

As Arthur got closer, a few people on the edges of the pier noticed their arrival, and began waving and calling out greetings. A shock of red hair and a white porcelain mask could also be seen, and sure enough the White Fang's resident swordsman was waiting to meet them when Famine reached the trucks. Tukson was there too, though the man was shirtless and clearly had been loading cargo judging by the sweat that covered his upper body. Arthur was reminded that the fight he had avoided when they had first met might not have been as easy as he had first assumed.

"Did we have any trouble?" Sienna demanded as soon as Arthur came to a stop, sliding off of Famine's back with help from the gunslinger's outstretched hand. Tukson opened his mouth to say something, but instead deferred to Adam when the bull Faunus looked at him.

"Nothing we couldn't handle. A few of Winchester's goons followed us into the desert. They were ordered to destroy our cargo, and render that fight at the store useless." Adam's masked gaze ran up and down the two arrivals. "You look like you made it out fine."

"There are about twenty men back in the city that were very easy to arrest, I'm sure." Sienna said confidently, a coy smirk on her face as she cocked her hip and crossed her arms. "Turns out Arthur has more to him than just the hat and the horse." The gunslinger in question blinked, unsure whether or not to be offended by such a backhanded compliment. Sienna offered a wink to show she meant no harm, but it didn't go unnoticed by the others, either. Tukson looked from her smirk to the hat she had borrowed, then reached behind him with a grin.

"Here, boss." He offered a water canteen. "You're looking pretty thirsty." The amused lilt to his tone indicated that there was a joke there somewhere, but Arthur missed it entirely. Judging by the way she narrowed her eyes and hissed, however, Sienna caught it and was not pleased. The cat Faunus snatched the canteen from Tukson's hand, reluctantly taking a few sips as the man bellowed with laughter. Arthur heard a snort come from Adam, and turned around to see that even the stoic swordsman was hiding his face, keeping his head turned to obscure the grin that had broken through his stony facade. Whatever the joke was, it was immensely funny, and at Sienna's expense.

_I'll never understand these people._ Arthur gave up with a sigh. Adam cleared his throat, and the moment passed, though not without a scathing glare that Sienna sent toward Tukson.

"We've almost finished loading the trucks. Number three's cargo bay was damaged in the fight earlier, so we had to empty it. Cain is adamant that it can be fixed though." Adam finished reporting. Sienna eyes darted around for a moment, unfocused, before she finally looked back at Arthur.

"Look's like we barely made it." She said, relief evident in her voice. He could have picked up the pace, but they both knew that wasn't her main worry.

"Don't give me that. The people look up to you. They wouldn't leave you behind," Arthur stepped a little closer, looking Adam in the eye with a solemn expression that said he was only partially joking. "Especially with a bandit human like me." Adam didn't flinch at the comment, but he did allow a frown to cross his face. When he did respond, however, it was to Sienna and not Arthur.

"Ships get delayed at sea all the time. I'm sure Ghira understands that." The way he said it was dismissive, but it told the truth all the same; they weren't going to leave Sienna behind. Even despite how much he disliked the boy's outlook, Arthur found a modicum of respect for the boy's loyalty. Sienna's eyes widened at the admission, and she turned to find a supportive smile on Tukson's face as well. She had doubted so hard, the fact that they wouldn't abandon her to the mercies of the Vacuan desert shocked her into silence. The cat Faunus paused, closing her eyes and recovering from her moment of surprise. When the amber eyes opened once more, they were filled with determination.

"Well, enough standing around then." She ordered, a voice loud enough for the other workers to hear her. The White Fang stood a little straighter as their leader addressed them. "What's left that needs doing? Kuo Kuana is counting on us, and we can't afford to miss Leader Belladonna's deadline!" Arthur whistled appreciatively as the assembled members leaped into action, their leisurely working pace gaining a fevered pitch now that Sienna was there. He followed behind as she began handing out orders in a rapid fire fashion, assigning duties as soon as she laid eyes on each individual Faunus. Whatever duties they had taken upon themselves were quickly rearranged. A few returned with more questions, and she sorted them out patiently and without judgment. Tukson peeled off early to take care of the trucks, leaving Arthur and Adam flanking Sienna as she made her way to the deck of the ship. When they boarded, Sienna's eyes scanned it critically.

The answer to Arthur's silent criticism from earlier had come as they boarded. Instead of loading the hold from the deck, a huge hatch lowered from the hull of the ship, allowing the trucks and White Fang to load up directly into the hold from the pier. It was not something he had expected, and Arthur stared down at it for a moment as he watched Tukson walk Famine down the gangway. The horse tossed his head, clearly uncomfortable boarding a ship in such a manner, but he behaved and followed Tukson's gentle but firm instructions.

"Is the crew still willing to ferry us? I remember there being some friction last time we spoke." Sienna angled toward the bridge, with Adam and Arthur struggling to catch up. Adam cast a sidelong look at Adam, then responded with a note of sarcasm.

"It seems the world is full of cooperative humans today. The captain agreed to our previous terms, and only stipulated that we leave before lunch. We were prepared to convince him otherwise, but clearly that wasn't necessary." Adam shrugged. "If the worst came to pass and we had to go looking for you, the men know how to steer the ship." Such a bald promise of violence made Arthur uncomfortable, and it must have shown on his face when Sienna turned around. The Faunus gave her friend a pitying look, then turned to face Adam.

"I'm not above using violence to get what we need, Adam, but the supplies on this ship are far more important than waiting on me to arrive. If we had been captured, news of the White Fang pirating a boat on top of whatever narrative Winchester spun about Arthur and I could have destroyed our cause." Her words were stern, but she was clearly teaching, not punishing. "Still, I'm glad it didn't come to that. Captain Mathieson has been nothing but kind."

"Hmm. Nothing is impossible, it seems." Adam said it with less heat than Arthur anticipated, but the teen clearly still had his reservations about trusting humans. Sienna thankfully did not turn to see Arthur rolling his eyes. If Adam did notice, he didn't say anything.

"So, we get the ship loaded and head to Mistral, huh?" Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. "So, where do I sleep?" Judging by the look Sienna gave Adam, the young swordsman had already made a comment she did not enjoy. Adam smirked and turned away, dropping down the twenty feet between the deck and the loading dock to assist with final preparations. Arthur watched him go, then turned around to see that Sienna was doing her best to imitate a tomato.

"What?" Sienna scoffed and shook her head, fighting down whatever embarrassment that the insinuation had caused. Arthur was no fool, and he knew that Sienna was a respected leader among her people. Their bald surprise at how kind she was to him was proof enough that she was acting strangely around him. He wasn't naive enough to believe that her change in behavior was romantically motivated, but with many groups like the White Fang, such ribbing and teasing was common. He also had the wisdom not to add to the teasing, since he was very much certain that Sienna had claws, and he had witnessed her beat down multiple grown men and women.

"You've shown you can sleep with a horse well enough. Maybe you should stay with Famine in the hold." The tigress let out a long, calming breath and relaxed a little bit upon seeing his surprised face. "Or I could arrange for a cabin. I'm sure Cain would appreciate a roommate, at the very least." Sienna rubbed her temples, clearly irritated by what seemed to be an old joke. Arthur kept his distance, certain that getting any closer would appear to lend credit to their humor, and just held up his hands neutrally.

"Take it easy. I know you were eager to get back to your people, but they're clearly happy to see you. I'll try and cut down on the joking and help out around the ship. By the time we're out to sea, they'll have found something else to harp on." Sienna growled, then closed her eyes and finally composed herself. When her amber eyes opened once more, Arthur could detect no more irritation.

"Leave it be. Any effort on your part to quiet them will just encourage the rumor. I appreciate you helping us with this venture. You have my word that we will make efforts to get you to Vale as soon as possible." Her response was calm and business-like, and suddenly they were in familiar territory. Between the two of them, Sienna was more relaxed than around her peers. Not entirely, as she did not know him well enough, but she clearly considered them friends. Arthur would have liked to think he agreed, as little as he knew about her. Now that she was around her people again, however, Sienna had to restrain her gentle camaraderie and become the Khan once more.

"Thanks for that, by the way. I know it took a lot for you to trust me as far as you did. And I think we both know I'd be a little lost without your help." Sienna snorted at his thanks, but didn't deny them. "When we get to Mistral, how long will it take to meet up with Ghira? I'm trying to judge how far we're traveling." The two walked over toward the railing, watching as the White Fang continued to load their supplies and trucks per Sienna's orders.

"There are a few things I can teach you during the journey. Things about Aura, things about Mistral... even things about Remnant." Sienna didn't seem confident about that last bit, and Arthur's confused look only made her shake her head. "Times like this make me think that you're playing me the fool, but you honestly do not know about us. You don't know what it is like to live in this world."

"What the hell is Remnant? Will we be passing through there to get to Mistral?" Arthur guessed, but the amused grin told him that he missed the mark. Confused, he shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms. You don't have to be all mysterious about it. I'm in the dark enough as it is."

"Quite." Sienna agreed with a smirk, then nodded toward the people working below them. "I must make arrangements with the captain, and there is more work to do. Come meet me tonight, and I'll explain more in full." Without another word, the squad leader turned and departed toward the bridge. Arthur watched her go, utterly perturbed at her ambiguity. He also made sure _not_ to stare as her hips swayed. Turning around lest his self control faltered, he looked down at the Faunus laboring below him. Adam had jumped down with no problem, no doubt using Aura.

_If I focus it into my legs and feet, maybe I could land like that too... _

Eager to try, Arthur tested himself a few times, reaching down into himself and pulling on the Aura Summer had awakened. The energy moved slowly, invigorating him as he manipulated the strange power. When he was certain he had it down, Arthur took a deep breath and released it, pulling his hat down tighter and stepping back from the rail.

"Here goes nothing." He muttered, more to himself than anything. The gunslinger took the few paces between himself and the open air quickly, as much to avoid falling into the ocean off of the pier as it was to keep him from chickening out. His heart leaped into his throat as he fell, the familiar falling sensation gripping him. Arthur forced his Aura to flow as he had practiced, and the wooden pier rushed up to meet him.

New Aura feeling clashed with a lifetime of tucking and rolling. When he landed, his Aura flared upon impact and besides some pressure in his heel and the balls of his feet, the cowboy came out no worse for wear. It was an unexpected outcome, and did not mesh well with the muscle memory of rolling across his shoulder when dropping from heights. The end result? Arthur landed safely, and lamely tucked forward on muscle memory alone. When he tried to fight it, he slammed his forehead into the pier and rolled off of the edge, leaving his hat behind as he fell into the drink with a mighty splash.

When he resurfaced, sputtering and red in the face, it was to find the entirety of the White Fang pointing and laughing at him. They had all stopped to help him just in case he would start drowning, but once they saw that he was alright the howls of laughter began. Arthur watched them all, particularly ruffled by the smug grin on Adam's face, then huffed angrily and started swimming for the nearest ladder. Up above him, Adam scooped up the hat and walked over to meet him.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Alright you greedy bastards. This is the last of my pre-written chapters. Updates will be slower as we progress. Figured I'd toss in what going on in Summer's neck of the woods. Big fight at the end, too. Also wondering, how are people liking Adam and Sienna? They are still developing into the characters we know from the series, and Arthur may change how they act in the future. And everyone is calling for Arthur to slay the tiger.

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**Chapter 4**

It took Summer nearly a week to meet Mrs. Adler in Saint Denis. 'At a tavern' had been Arthur's instructions, and Summer had quickly learned that there were quite a few taverns and bars in the biggest city in the region. Valentine, Strawberry, and Rhodes were all small little towns that could dry up in a single season, and they had the size to match such a fate. Saint Denis was filled with people from all over, and many of them were there to stay. As such, there were plenty of watering holes and brothels to choose from, and there was no telling which one Sadie Adler was at. On top of that, unless she was a lucky lush, it was entirely possible that Summer would find the right bar at the wrong time, and completely miss the woman because she had gone home or on a job.

Eventually, Summer just settled on asking around the local bars, and when the barkeeps recognized Adler's name, Summer told them to pass along that a friend of Arthur Morgan was wanting to speak to her. Twelve hours later, Summer found herself inside the inn next to the market when a blonde woman in a striped white buttoned shirt and a wide brimmed hat sat down next to her. Summer had maintained her corset and white cloak, though she kept the hood down as to not be too out of place. Still, a woman walking around in a cloak drew some attention. Unlike the Murfree Brood the night she had met Arthur, the people of Saint Denis had already learned not to bother her. There were still a few men unconscious and hanging from street lights by their belts.

"I hear you've been looking for me." Adler's voice was rough; a product of hard living and harder drinking. Summer was instantly reminded of Raven, though the other female member of Team STRQ didn't sound like she gargled gravel for fun.

"I have. I'm here to fulfill a debt." Summer sipped her water, since it was too early in the day to be drinking alcohol in her opinion. To her total lack of surprise, Sadie waved the bartender down and ordered a beer. When it slid up to her, the blonde woman knocked half of it back in one go, setting the glass down with a long sigh.

"And what kind of debt would that be?"

"Arthur Morgan saved my life. He agreed to look after my family, and I agreed to help save some of his." Summer let Sadie sit on that for a moment. "He was very sick when I saw him last. I don't know if he made it or not. But he asked me to save John Marston from prison and get his family away from Dutch Van der Linde." Arthur hadn't said the last part specifically, but a week of looking for Sadie had given Summer a decent perspective on Arthur's former gang. All she had to do was read the wanted posters. At the news of Arthur's potential demise, Sadie's shoulders hunched stiffly. The woman said nothing for a time, then finished her beer and waved for another. The bartender slid it her way, but this time Sadie didn't touch it.

"So he really is gone. Charles said he'd left camp for the last time, but I guess I was holding out hope..." Sadie clearly wanted to say more, but Summer probably wasn't the person to sympathize with. Sure enough, skepticism enter her voice. "How do I know you aren't trying to arrest the lot of us?"

"I don't name drop dying men, if that's what you're asking. He helped me with his dying breath, so I wanted to repay his kindness. Despite how he felt about himself, Arthur was a good man." Summer's response was cold and quick, not entirely pleased with what Sadie was accusing her of. The blonde woman didn't seem too taken aback, more like Summer was confirming what she already suspected. Sadie looked down at the drink she still hadn't touched, then back at Summer. The Huntress returned her look coolly, not blinking as Adler searched for whatever she could find to believe her.

"Alright then. I told Arthur to meet me almost two weeks ago. I hired a balloon pilot to help me get a look at the prison while I waited. Things got a little hairy, but I spotted John working in the fields. If we take a boat to the island and watch for him, I think we can break him out when he comes for work detail." Sadie looked Summer up and down. "It's probably going to get messy. You sure you can handle yourself in a fight?"

Summer rolled her eyes and stood, her cloak moving just enough to show the glint of her sword before she stepped away from her stool. Sadie had to have noticed it, and the blonde woman followed close behind her. The drink she had ordered remained untouched.

"Just get us to the island and I'll handle the rest. Arthur had quite a bit of money saved up; nearly eight thousand dollars. If we can get Marston and his family out, can you help them escape? I won't be welcome in the main camp." Summer was no fool; she new Dutch Van der Linde and his gang would attempt to fill her with holes the second she stepped out of the treeline. It would probably be poor form to repay Arthur's kindness by slaughtering his old gang.

"Abigail and I have talked it over in passing, but I'll need to get John back before we make any real plans. Micah has stepped in as Dutch's second ever since Arthur left. Dutch said he left a letter, but he won't let anyone read it. I haven't seen him leave his tent in days." Sadie shrugged on a large coat over her shoulders, surprising considering the bayou heat. "Micah is a real ass, but I think he's calling the shots just because Dutch is too broken up over Arthur...leaving." Summer followed close behind as Sadie pushed her way out of the tavern, the two woman squinting in the summer heat of Saint Denis. A few passing men gave Summer some odd looks, but it was such a common thing for her that she ignored it easily. Sadie chose to comment on it, however.

"Not that I'm going to turn down help, but where the hell did Arthur find you? You get lost on your way to France or something?" Sadie led the way to the less developed part of town, with more wooden fences than brick buildings. Summer couldn't fault Adler for her curiosity, but explaining herself over and over was starting to become a bore.

"I'm definitely not from around here. I was passing through the area when some Murfree boys surprised me during a private moment." Sadie winced at that, and Summer nodded in agreement. "Yeah, not the best time to fight off a bunch of toothless idiots. They knocked me out and tied me up. When I woke up, Arthur was in the middle of a gunfight, and no one was paying attention to me. So I slipped out of the ropes just in time to kill the last of them. Arthur offered to give me a ride to the nearest town, and we camped out for the night. I sent him off to get some medical help, and he asked me to help you. I hope he made it..." Summer stared out toward the open sea as they came into view. The slums of Saint Denis sat at an angle away from the port, allowing the ocean breeze to wash across them, bringing with it the scent of sea salt and a faint odor of fish. A few people walked by them as they emerged from the alleys, and these folks seemed a bit more rough around the edges than the others Summer had encountered. Torn and patched clothing, haggard and unshaven faces, even a few scars that looked like they needed medical attention. Sadie led the way past them all, to a large brown horse that was hitched to a post near the bridge that led out of the city.

"That's a beautiful animal." Summer commented, watching as Sadie stroked the horse's neck. The widow smiled at the honest praise, allowing the horse to nuzzle her palm as she looked back at Summer.

"Thanks. Arthur helped me catch him when we were close to the plains near Valentine. He found his horse out there too, but that was a few weeks earlier. Only Arthur Morgan would be lucky enough to find a wild Thoroughbred." Sadie shook her head wistfully, but Summer's eyes narrowed. The widow continued to pet her horse with one hand, but the other stayed right next to her hip, and by extension her pistol. This was a test, Summer realized. To make sure she hadn't name dropped just to corner Arthur's friends.

"I'm pretty sure Famine is an Arabian, not a Thoroughbred." Summer crossed her arms and huffed. "Can we stop with the cloak and dagger stuff, already? It took me a week in this dusty town to find you, and the only reason I waited that long is because I don't know what John Marston looks like. Not to mention he probably wouldn't come with me if I busted him out alone." Sadie glanced at her for a moment out of the corner of her eye, then finally relaxed and let her hand fall to her side.

"Yeah, sorry 'bout that. Can't be too careful these days, especially with Dutch acting like he's lost his marbles. Come on, I've got a boat hitched near the beach that we can use." Sadie hopped up into the saddle and turned around to help Summer up, only to be just as surprised as Arthur had been when the cloaked woman simply jumped up from a relaxed position to suddenly mount the horse comfortably behind Sadie. Mrs. Adler looked behind herself with a stunned expression, and Summer only offered a knowing smirk in return.

"...And the Murfree boys caught you off guard?" Summer's face heated in embarrassment.

"They literally caught me with my pants down! Even I can't fight ten men off like that!" The mortified reply finally cracked the cool veneer Summer had, and Sadie threw back her head and laughed as she flicked the reins, guiding her horse toward the path that led to her boat she had squirreled away. When she had stolen it, Sadie had pictured herself and Arthur paddling to the far shore, coming up with some far fetched plan to save John and bring him back to his family. With the veteran gunslinger gone though, the ocean looked a little less hopeful. Hopefully wherever Arthur was, he had a good view of the sea.

* * *

Arthur hated looking at the ocean. After a day or so, the constant view of water, water, clouds, and against all odds _more water_ really wore on the psyche. Arthur had tried to wonder how sailors did it without losing their minds, but then he was reminded that most people that made sea travel a profession were a little off their rocker to begin with. The few things good he could say about the trip were the things he learned along the way.

First off, he had finally come to terms with the fact that home was more than just a few weeks travel away. The map Sienna had shown him, technology in general, everyone's total ignorance of words like 'America' and 'Europe', and the Faunus told him that he had been far away from the state of Lemoyne. But it took staring up at the shattered moon on one of the few nights his medicine didn't send him into a coma to realize that Earth itself was a foreign concept.

When Arthur had finally discovered that, his reaction had been... understandable. Thankfully, Remnant's sailors and Earth's sailors shared one thing in common at least: their love for all things alcohol. A few lien cards and a meetup later, and Arthur had drowned his worries away in the nastiest grog he had ever tasted. Sienna had taken special care to wake him up extra early, opening every source of light in his cabin just to make sure he greeted the day properly. Though he could definitely say that the tiger Faunus was his friend, she was also placed on Remnant for the sole express purpose of tormenting him.

After he had recovered, Arthur explained to Sienna exactly why he had sought total inebriation, and she had comforted him as best she could, distracting him with tales of the White Fang's exploits and teaching him a few things about Aura. When he had first used it, the energy had come to him on instinct alone, flowing with what he already focused on in the middle of a fight; the impact of his fist, the strength of his forearm if he blocked a punch, and hardening his abdomen in the event he was put into a corner. With Sienna's instruction, however, Arthur was able to do the things he saw her do. The first night, he'd jumped up to the mast of the ship and was so surprised that he'd actually accomplished it that he nearly fell into the drink again.

According to the Lady Khan, there was a whole warrior subculture within the Huntsmen and Huntresses dedicated to mastering their Aura and defeating the creatures of Grimm. From Sienna's tales about the monsters, Arthur was a damn sight pleased that Famine had dragged him toward a city and not some desert canyon full of horrible monstrosities. That would have ended his adventure quick, fast, and in a hurry. When Summer had said that she was a Huntress, Arthur had no idea just how much more that meant than simply hunting creatures. Huntsmen were heroes here, famous men and women that had incredible powers and slew horrendous creatures in the name of peace and safety. Or at least, that was the idea. As with anything involving people, there was more than one Huntsman that had ulterior motives. The minority that did not fight for the people were generally the ones that Sienna took issue with.

More important than the people that hunted them, the Grimm were a serious problem that Arthur had ignored up until this point. While everyone he spoke to, Adam included, could not stress enough the danger of the creatures of Grimm, Arthur found it difficult to believe that anything could be more deadly than people with super powers. The fifth day on the water, however, proved him wrong.

Arthur started his day like he had the previous two, relaxing on the deck and helping out whenever someone needed it. He and Adam were still having the weird pattern of speaking to each other and then avoiding each other, but the conversations they did have were enlightening when it came to the young Faunus' perspective. He was still an ass, but it was far easier to understand his general contempt for humanity after hearing more about the Schnee Dust Company. Arthur was certain that there was a little embellishment, but he was more than familiar with the behavior of a big company around little people.

The morning sun did little to further leather his face, though Tukson had introduced a bottle of what he called 'sun block'; a lotion that protected the skin and kept him from looking like a burnt piece of gristle. Arthur had tried it, and he had to admit that the cool liquid felt good on the hot day. He'd be damned if he knew enough about the disease he was supposedly preventing. If he was going to get 'cancer' from the sun, he probably already had it.

It was almost noon when Arthur noticed the first signs of trouble. The ship's crew, independent of the White Fang, were the first to start acting worried. They were running around the deck, passing messages in hushed whispers. Faces hardened, and the sailors stopped joking around and went about their duties with far more gravity. Arthur stopped one of them to ask what the problem was, but the gruff response had been, "Hopefully nothing." The man had jerked his arm from Arthur's grasp and left before he could ask further. The White Fang were just as clueless as he was, and Tukson had offered a shrug when Arthur asked him the same thing.

"Who knows?" The man said with a frown. "Rumor is a sailor's worst enemy, and they're being pretty tight lipped about it. If I find out though, I'll let you know." Arthur nodded and went down into the hold, certain that Famine would pick up on the mood and start getting anxious. Sure enough, the horse was whinnying and kicking the small corner he had been boxed into, a generous allowance by the captain given that he was hauling cargo and people, not animals. The fact that a human used that reason to dislike a horse while working with the White Fang was not unappreciated. Sienna liked the captain, and far be it from Arthur to rain on that friendship by letting his horse annoy everyone.

"Settle down!" He hissed, grabbing the Arabian's reins and pulling him down. The horse continued to snort and stomp, clearly upset about something. The behavior wasn't new; in fact, it was something Arthur encouraged. Whenever a predator came near Famine, Arthur _wanted_ the horse to rail and stomp and make a racket. But down here in the hold of a ship? What predator could be out here?

To answer his unasked question, a loud clang filled the hold, and Arthur was thrown from his feet as the entire ship rocked. Famine brayed his displeasure once more, but four legs served him better than Arthur's two and the horse remained standing. The gunslinger found himself face down underneath one of the nearby trucks, though he was quick to regain his footing and stand. All around the hold, Arthur could hear the crew yelling and barking orders to each other, and there was a pained scream somewhere near the ladder that led topside.

"Sea Feilong!" The cry came from the bow. As Arthur raced to get back up onto the main deck, the cry was echoed all along the ship. He took the steps two at a time, panting heavily and thankful as hell that his lung were healed. When he reached the top deck, he less met and more plowed into Adam as the two tried to pass each other on the narrow deck.

"What the hell's going on?!" Arthur demanded. Adam sneered and ducked around him, tossing a pointed look behind him.

"A creature of Grimm. It's a big one too!" Adam offered no further explanation, instead focused on turning the corner and sprinting up to the bridge. The young swordsman was eager to fight, but whatever they were up against was enough to make the arrogant teen run to Sienna. Figuring that she would be wherever Adam was running, Arthur followed suit.

"What the hell kind of explanation is that? You make it sound like it's some kind...of..." Arthur's steps halted with his words as a monstrous splash caught his attention, and the creature that appeared before him wiped any further argument from his mind.

A long, serpentine body stretched from the waves, covered in black and dark gray scales. Two small arms and two Giant wings emerged from the curling body, but the head was the biggest surprise. Long fangs, fins behind the jaw, glowing orange eyes, and the biggest damn thing Arthur had ever seen. The dragon shrieked, a high pitched sound that carried far and chased the warmth from his bones. Two swirling tendrils wafted from underneath its nose, and the Feilong flexed its wings in preparation.

This was why Summer had warned him about the Grimm. This was why humanity, despite having truly absurd abilities and powers, was almost wiped from the face of the planet. And as Arthur stared at the massive sea dragon, the creature stared right back at him with burning orange eyes. They stayed there, locked in a stare down as Arthur struggled to comprehend exactly what he was looking at.

For whatever reason, the spell was broken, and Arthur blinked in surprise when electricity began building in the mouth of the Feilong. Arthur cursed and wrapped around the stairs, climbing even faster knowing that whatever the dragon was up to, it probably wasn't good.

"We're gonna need a bigger boat!" Arthur swore loudly as he clanged up the ladder. When he reached the next landing, a member of the White Fang that he wasn't familiar with was already there. She waved for him to stay back, and Arthur felt the hairs stand up on the back of his head when he turned to look at the dragon. He was lucky that he did, as the glimpse allowed him to throw himself to the ground when a streak of lightning, yellow and crackling and - _holy hell what is this?!_ \- flew over his head. The woman dodged it as well, but in doing so threw her weight over the side and began to tumble. Arthur watched the White Fang woman teeter, and he urged himself to his feet. Once again, against his will, the world turned golden and time slowed down. Instead of being in a fight, however, Arthur used his increased reflexes to grab the woman by the vest and drag her back from the brink. The woman panted in surprise, looking between Arthur and the fall that might have seriously hurt her with wide eyes.

"Thank you!" Arthur nodded and held up a hand to stop any further appreciation.

"Yeah, you're welcome miss. Now get somewhere safe before that thing burns us to ashes." He didn't say it unkindly, but she flinched anyway. She was likely more embarrassed about losing her cool during an attack than being offended by his words, though.

"You're right, sorry. Let Leader Khan know that we have most of the sailors secure in the hold. But we'll have to fight it to survive this!" With that, the woman slipped past Arthur, descending the ladder he had just come up himself. With that taken care of, another hiss from the dragon encouraged Arthur to get a move on. Two more flights later, and he was barging through the hatch that led to the bridge, where several familiar figures were watching the dragon.

"A Feilong, this far from the trench? What could have drawn it here?" The captain muttered, more worried about the map before him than the dragon sweeping across the deck outside. The man wore a brimmed cap and a light jacket, the buttons on the dark blue garment shined brass. His gray hair puffed out from underneath his hat like a cloud of smoke, and a thick mustache and mutton chops ran down to his chin. Hard gray eyes roamed the map before him, and the stress lines on his face were hard earned. Beside him, Sienna looked far more worried about the Grimm.

"It matters not what drew it here. Do we have the capacity to kill it?" A chain wrapped around her left arm, and the way she was tensed told Arthur she was ready to use it. Behind her, Adam nodded in his direction.

"So, what did I miss?" Arthur drawled, slamming the hatch behind him and approaching the table they were huddled around. "Besides the giant sea monster outside, anyway?" Sienna didn't appreciate his joke, but she seemed glad to see him anyway.

"The first hit we took damaged the screws of the ship. We're dead in the water until the captain and his men can repair it. They can't do _that_ until we kill that thing." Sienna reported heatedly, her amber eyes never leaving the Feilong outside. Another shriek was heard, and Arthur watched grimly as the creature dove beneath the waves, disappearing into the depths. Judging by how angry it sounded, the thing wasn't going to stay under for good.

"I don't know if you noticed, but a shotgun and some raw cussin' ain't gonna do shit against something that big. I hope you boys brought some big guns, because all I can do is piss it off." Arthur stepped to the empty spot around the table, in between Sienna and Adam. Neither Faunus seemed opposed, though Adam's mask made it difficult to tell what he was thinking. Why the boy wore it everywhere he went, Arthur would never know.

"I can't take it down unless it gets onto the ship itself. My sword doesn't exactly reach out over water that." Adam said lowly, thumbing said out of its sheath. Arthur wasn't sure what a blade would do against a giant sea monster period, but it wasn't his business either way.

"Well I have good new then. The White Fang just got the last of the sailors into the hold. They'll be safer there than anywhere else. The downside is, you're looking at the only capable hands above the waterline." Arthur patted his holster on his hip. "I can attract it when it comes up, but we're fish food if you need me to do anything more." Arthur wished he had more to contribute, but Sienna was already nodding. Another roar from outside reminded them that time was no on their side.

"That might be just what we need. Arthur, go with Adam. Draw the beast's attention, but control yourself. The fight is lost if we sink the boat along with the Grimm." turning to the skipper, her eyes hardened. "I'll try to keep it away from the hold and the bridge, but its up to you to coordinate us. The Feilong is too large and too agile for us to watch it effectively. Use the intercom and call out where it surfaces."

Adam let Sienna and Captain Mathieson speak, preferring to focus on his orders and little else. Since he was responsible for keeping the kid alive, Arthur followed behind him with an exasperated groan. The two walked out of the hatch, Arthur closing it behind him. Adam never changed pace, forcing Arthur to hurry to catch up to him.

"You don't have to help me, you know." Adam called over his shoulder. "Sienna is just as capable of getting its attention as you are." Arthur rolled his eyes, though the boy didn't see it as they marched out onto the main deck. Adam slowed his pace, allowing Arthur to walk by his side. The Feilong was nowhere to be seen, but a sinister rumble from below told them it hadn't lost interest in them.

"Go suck a railroad spike. You're crazy if you think I'm gonna let you fight this overgrown cotton mouth alone." Arthur snarled, not in the mood for the chip on the boy's shoulder. Adam snorted, clearly not amused with Arthur's answer.

"Why? Because Sienna asked you to?" Another rumble shook the ship, and the two men stood back to back, scanning for the serpent. Of all the times to have this out, he chose now! The boy had worse timing than Bill.

"No! Because letting someone fight a giant sea dragon on his own is a shitty thing to do! You think that maybe I don't have a crooked moral compass?" Arthur was about to say more, but feedback on the ship's intercom interrupted his poorly timed tirade.

_"It's coming up the port side, near the bow! Watch that anchor!"_ The captain's voice was scratch and loud, but his superior vantage point let him see the creature as it hugged the hull, rising as far as it could silently. When Adam and Arthur turned to face it, however, the Feilong rose to its full height and screeched a challenge. The long shriek was punctuated by three shots as Arthur drew and fired, his twin Schofield revolvers barking rounds at the beast as Adam rushed toward it. The young Faunus ran to the edge of the deck as Arthur continued to harry the beast, his eyes locked on its serpentine body that was pressed against the hull. Wilt left its sheath with a whisper, and he took the blade in both hands for a rare two handed strike.

Just before blade met flesh, the body of the Feilong shifted and twisted, pulling itself away from his blade by a good eight feet. As committed as Adam was to the strike, only the raised metal of the railing saved him from chasing the Grimm out into the open water. Looking up with a gasp, Adam could only barely back step out of the way before a long stream of lightning struck the deck where he had been standing. The Faunus landed on his backside with a grunt, and a strong grip on his collar made him look up in surprise. Arthur had a hold of him and was dragging him back toward the center of the ship, away from the dragon.

"You damn fool!" Arthur cursed, firing Death one handed as he pulled. "If it fires down on you like that, it'll go into the hold! Our people are down there!" As if to reinforce his point, Adam's more sensitive hearing picked up on panicked shouts and pained cries below. His mistake had just gotten someone hurt. The shame burned him, and Adam gritted his teeth in anger.

"What do you suggest I do then?" Adam snarled, standing up and shrugging off Arthur's hand as the two stared up at the Feilong. The dragon rumbled ominously, its glowing eyes alive with primal intelligence. It was smart enough to feint, and therefore wasn't to be taken lightly. If they were fighting on land, Adam was certain he was fast enough to hem the creature in and shred it to pieces. Out here on the ocean, though, the Feilong had the advantage. It didn't take a genius to find out that anyone falling into the water was doomed.

"We've gotta keep its attention up here." Arthur opened the cylinder on his revolver and started dumping rounds into it. "If it misses us up here, it'll just go out to sea. Now I can shoot it all day, but what can you do to put it down? Floss its teeth with that toothpick you got there?" Adam ignored the barb shot at his weapon, and sheathed it like he had been trained to do. Keeping it naked and to his side was as disrespectful as it was useless.

"If I can absorb a few of those breath attacks, my Semblance can put it down for good." Adam replied, crouching down a little as the dragon began snarling again. It wasn't content to let them plan, and the animal savagery in its gaze guaranteed they were going to have to work for it. There was a distant rattle of chains, and suddenly a large throwing knife embedded itself in the creature's neck. It squawked in surprise, and then the knife exploded in a gout of fire. This time, its shriek was one of pain.

From the side port side and running to the fore, Sienna twisted her chain under one arm and fastened another knife, eyes blazing as she regarded the creature. This animal, this _thing_ had the audacity to attack the people under her protection. It was something the Khan took rather personally.

"What's the plan, gentlemen?" She called out, ducking and running along the outside of the hull as another beam of lightning struck out towards her. It flew over her head as Sienna grabbed the edge of the railing and actually ran along the hull itself, a single railing the difference between dodging the attack and a watery grave. "It won't just sit there and wait for you to attack!"

"Adam says he wants to get hit by it, and I guess it's my job to piss it off!" Arthur hollered back, and made good on his role by opening fire once more. The Feilong hissed as his round impacted with its mask, and one even got close to an eye. Considering him the greater threat, it snarled and dove towards him, intent on swallowing him whole. Cursing as the creature rushed at him, Arthur only barely avoided its teeth as he slid forward, fanning the hammer on Death and driving rounds up into what he hoped was a vulnerable throat. He watched them go in, pockmarking the Grimm's hide as he came to a stop and rolled left, but the serpent made no further screams of pain. Whatever anatomy let it dive down deep apparently made it resistant to bullets.

"Let's see how he likes these." Arthur muttered, his hand diving into a vest pocket and withdrawing his express rounds. The bullets were made with a heavier charge and used a hollow point round at higher velocity. If he were shooting from one hundred yards, they would be wildly inaccurate and the hollow points wouldn't have enough force to cause the big holes they were known for. Here, up close? They would do just fine.

The dragon drew back and spewed more lightning at Adam, who was actually able to catch a blast on his blade this time. True to his word, though Arthur could admit to doubting him, the teen gritted his teeth as his blade glowed red, then sheathed it again as soon as the attack was over. His hair, the slits on his mask, and the rose motif on his jacket glowed red slightly as he grinned.

"I need a few more shots, then we can take this thing down!" He called, ducking and rolling as the dragon followed up on its shot with a snap of its jaws. More and more of the creature crept out of the ocean, swaying this way and that like an angry snake. It was close enough that Adam could get in a few slashes, but that meant any time it fired down on them, the blast went into the hold.

"Hey Arthur, how's that plan coming along?" Adam taunted, running his blade along the serpent's belly and leaving behind a thin red line in its black flesh. The dragon shrieked once more, and began ignoring Arthur in favor of chasing the infuriating little swordsman.

"Oh shut up! It's after you now! Try to keep it on the edge!" Arthur loaded his new rounds and frowned, wondering just how upset Sienna would be if he let the dragon eat the little bastard. Probably more than he felt like dealing with. Sighing heavily and wondering how the hell he had gotten into this, Arthur let his special ammunition fly just as the main boy of the serpent passed him. Where his normal rounds had dug in with no visible effect, the hollow point rounds poked some much bigger holes into the flesh. They flattened entirely on the bony armor plates, so Arthur did his best to focus on the unprotected areas. This time, the dragon screeched and shrieked, and he was even rewarded with black blood dropping down to the deck. The Feilong continued to chase Adam, but it doing so exposed Arthur to a very tempting target.

"Now we're getting somewhere!" Arthur crowed, ducking back toward the bridge to avoid the dragon's pained spasms. With Arthur shooting it up and causing actual damage, the dragon didn't have the focus to dodge Adam's blade as effectively. One poorly timed roll and Adam was in the crease of the dragon's body, just between its throat and belly. He dug in and began to carve and carve and carve, black blood drenching his blade as he stabbed and slashed to maximum effectiveness.

The combined assault of Arthur's new rounds and Adam's punishing blade was enough to force the dragon to change tactics. The deck was slick with oil-like blood, and the serpent had taken far more wounds than it had expected. The Feilong retracted swiftly from the deck of the ship, forcing Arthur to check his fire lest he hit Adam by mistake. Sienna came charging around the other side of the deck, her chain spinning and ready to loose another knife. With Arthur pushing express shells and Adam half charged up (according to him), the fight looked to be well in hand.

Until the dragon howled and grew wings, at any rate. Two black wings sprouted from between the beast's back plates, red webbing between strong fringes that stretched in the afternoon sun. Adam grunted in irritation, but Arthur was vocal enough for both of them.

"IT CAN FLY?!" He roared incredulously, digging back into his pouch for the high velocity rounds. Oh, the wisdom of calming his horse and _not pulling the damn rifle from its saddle_! Sienna just watched as the dragon climbed into the air, its agility taking on new heights as its entire body left the water. Seventy, maybe eighty feet of gargantuan sea dragon became a swooping terror, and Arthur had to run and dive to miss the lightning breath as it flew by. The attack scored across the deck, though this time the plating held. Arthur stood back up, his eyes tracking the predator as he still struggled to believe what he was seeing.

"This is some bullshit right here!" He snarled, turning to see Sienna twirling her chain. The squad leader pursed her lips, tracking the dragon's movements as it came around for another attack.

"Adam, you have to get in front of it! If it keeps attacking from up there, we'll be sunk!" She cried, letting her knife loose. It carried into the air like a dart, and the spinning dragon failed to dodge the blade as it sank deep into the flesh of its shoulder. Another explosion, and that shriek pierced the air once more. This time, it hovered in mid air instead of trying to perform fancy dodges and maneuvers and glared down upon them like an angry god. Despite the fact that it was a monster, a creature of instinct and hatred, Arthur could see the resolve in its eyes. This was it.

"Cluster up!" He barked, running over to where Arthur stood. "If we gotta take a hit, make sure we're the ones it aims at. Adam, you better be ready, boy!" Sienna's light steps put her next to him, her chain hidden to stop from distracting them from their shots.

"Adam, we're counting on you." She whispered, though he could hear the pride in her voice. She was confident in the boy, and knew for a fact that he could block the shot. Arthur hoped she was right. If he couldn't they would live to drown in the sea.

"C'mon, you big sumbitch!" Arthur challenged, fired Death one handed. "We got a present for ya!" Adam nodded and concentrated, his hidden eyes watching the dragon intently. Though it couldn't possibly understand him, Arthur's challenge proved enough to force the Feilong to dive. A sinister roar, deeper than the shrieks and screeches they had drawn from it before, washed over the ship as it fell toward them. The head reared back slightly, like a spitting cobra, and Arthur tensed up. _Here it comes_.

The lightning shot forward once more, white hot light that sparked angrily through the air. It moved ridiculously fast, and Arthur was certain now that even had he wanted to, there was no dodging the blast. It was larger and more powerful than the beams it had used earlier.

Right when the attack was about to slam into them and wipe the three of them from existence, Adam's sword rose from its sheath. The thin blade, impossible by Arthur's standards to stop anything thicker than a piece of wood, drew in the great blast of energy. The great wash of light made Arthur and Sienna shield their eyes, but the gunslinger watched in amazement as Adam took the entire attack upon his blade. The boy's leg buckled from the strain of the attack, yelling his anger back at the dragon as he continued to take the blast.

As soon as it was over, Adam sheathed his weapon and fell to his knees. Arthur stared down at the young man, bewildered that such a thing was possible. Sienna was paralyzed by no such surprise.

"Adam, get up! You have to kill it!" She urged, pulling him to his feet. The red lines on his jacket were much more prominent now, and he stood almost like a drunkard, listing and unresponsive.

_This isn't going to work._ Arthur realized. Whatever effort went into absorbing attacks like that, it had been too much for Adam to take and react right away. The dragon was still diving, and if it crashed into the ship they were done for.

Arthur's vision turned golden once more. He stepped back, drawing his pistol as he did so. The revolver still had one high velocity round left, and he knew right where he wanted to put it. Time slowed to a crawl, and he sighted up on the descending monster so set upon ending their lives. There was no sound whatsoever, and it made the click of his hammer sound like a death toll. He watched as the dragon approached, impossibly large and snarling with its huge teeth and beating wings. And just above the teeth, the glowing eye. Arthur pointed, released a breath, and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot brought reality with it, and he was pleased to see his round sink right into the dragon's eye. The Feilong shrieked in pain and pulled up out of its dive, struggling to avoid the painful man with the tiny bullets. Because it pulled up, the serpent didn't crash into the deck. As it passed over, Adam's blade came free.

The world went red.

When Arthur became aware once again, he had a warm body on top of him. The subtle sound of the waves washing up against the ship told him he wasn't dead, and Arthur groaned in pain. The last thing he remembered was Adam's attack, and the immense pressure that had followed. Arthur had felt like he was being crushed underneath an elephant, it had been so great. He was alive though, and the body draped over him shifted slightly. Arthur wrapped an arm around it on instinct, hoping Sienna didn't mind it. To be fair, she was quite the looker, and if getting tackled by gorgeous women was going to be a new staple in his life, he wasn't about to complain. At least until she took exception to it.

Sienna shifted again, and Arthur forced himself to open his eyes. If Adam was watching, he'd never hear the end of it. When he finally let the light back in, Arthur could make out the vague shape of someone standing over him. Tanned skin, a humored smirk, and Arthur already knew he was in trouble. If the brat wanted to gloat, then fine. Arthur was comfortable right where he was. The gunslinger blinked again, and the vague shape resolved into Sienna herself, her scroll out and doing something. Sienna was standing over him. Not lying over top of him. That was not Sienna.

_That ain't right._ Arthur thought to himself, and finally looked down at the person he had held in his arms. Instead of the voluptuous tiger Faunus that had guided him since his arrival in Vacuo, he found the slack jawed, unconscious form of Adam Taurus. Upon realization, Arthur pushed the unconscious teen off of him with the same fervor as one would a snake, his eyes wide and a look of horror on his face as he did so. Adam didn't wake from the action, but simply flopped unceremoniously upon the deck and groaned. Arthur watched him for a moment, still trying to process exactly what he had just done. And Sienna's smile was far too smug.

"I don't want to hear a damn word." Arthur whispered dangerously, a finger pointed at the White Fang leader in warning. Sienna's grin widened, but she showed mercy on him and left whatever comment she had for him unsaid. The tiger Faunus held out a hand to help him up, and Arthur took it gladly, stepping a few paces away from the unconscious Faunus he had so tenderly held.

"What's the damage? Did we lose anyone?" Arthur asked quickly, ignoring the burning in his ears. Sienna stepped away as well, stopping only to roll Adam into a more comfortable position and place his sword by his side.

"Two giant holes in the deck, two broken but repairable screws, and some bumps and bruises down in the hold." Sienna reported. "The trucks made good cover for everyone, but the cab of number three was destroyed. Since it's already empty, we don't desperately need it until we reach dry land. It may take some time repair, though."

"Thank God for that then." Arthur pulled his hat from his head and ran a hand through his hair. Fighting a sea dragon was one thing, but a sea dragon that flies and shoots lightning from its mouth? Arthur could tell that joke for the rest of his days and it would never be funny.

"So that was a Grimm, huh?" Arthur cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders to work out the kinks. What had knocked him out?

"That was a very large and old Grimm. The usual suspects aren't as large or formidable. Congratulations on slaying your first sea monster." Sienna smirked, and Arthur just snorted and put his hat back on.

"Hopefully the last one I ever see. What was it that Adam did back there? I saw him pull the sword, then it was like I woke up from losing a bar fight." Arthur looked back at the unconscious teen, concern on his face as the boy rested. He was clearly okay, but the strangeness of the situation had Arthur on edge.

"Adam's Semblance allows him to absorb damage through his blade and use the energy to heighten his abilities." Sienna explained, walking back toward the bridge. Arthur looked back at the sleeping man on the ground, then decided he'd be fine and wanted to be rid of him anyway. Dusting himself off unconsciously, the gunslinger followed his friend up the ladder.

"Sometimes it's to make him move faster, sometimes he can use basic illusions, but he usually amplifies his sword techniques with it. I think what we saw today was the most he's ever absorbed, however. That strike was a lot, even for Adam." Arthur rolled his eyes and shrugged.

"I didn't even see him kill it. Did he jump up and stab it? Cut its head off maybe?" Sienna paused when he asked, and then continued down the platform instead of walking onto the bridge itself. Curious, Arthur followed her. Instead of answering him, Sienna simply gestured toward the water behind the ship. Sailors were climbing down the aft section of the ship, and their motion attracted his attention at first. But when he finally saw what she was gesturing towards, Arthur had to grab the railing to steady himself.

Floating in the water and slowly disintegrating, the Feilong sat dead among the waves. The incredible part was how it had been bisected at the middle, and the tail end of it was nowhere to be found. Adam had cut the dragon clean in two! Arthur stared at it hard, doubting his vision for more than a few moments. He blinked, finally realizing that it was real, and then looked down at his holsters. Death and Life gleamed in the afternoon sun, ready to draw as they had always been. But in the face of a monstrosity like that, they had done little more than annoy it. Even his most expensive rounds, which he had no way of getting back, had done little more than make it scream and piss it off.

_I need something bigger._ Arthur realized. His rifle down in the hold wouldn't have done him any more favors than the pistols had, and Sienna had said that the world was full of Grimm. She wasn't even surprised by the Feilong, just noted that it was old and large. She had referenced a giant sea dragon like he would an over-sized catfish.

"The Sea Feilong is dead, and we'll make sure to spread the word that the White Fang defended a ship full of humans from the colossal creature."Sienna crossed her arms and leaned over the railing, her eyes tracking the working sailors like a predator. "Not only did we protect the cargo that we went all the way to Vacuo to get, but we saved some people and got some good publicity in the process. This is turning into quite the successful trip." She looked over at him. "I should bring you along on all my long distance missions."

"What can I say? I'm a lucky guy." The groan that accompanied his statement told her that was a joke, and Sienna chuckled and smiled.

"I saw that shot, by the way. Adam killed the dragon and saved us, but he would have never had the opportunity if you had not shot the eye of a diving dragon with a pistol from over one hundred yards away." Her praise was naked and honest, and Arthur couldn't look at her and take it.

"If I'd have killed it with that bullet, you'd have a point. All I did was make him flinch. But what Adam did out there, _that_ was something special. I just pulled a trigger." Sienna's smile faded as he shrugged off her praise, and she stood up a little straighter.

"Sienna Khan doesn't hand out praise lightly, Arthur." She scolded. "Make no mistake: had you not made that shot, we would be dead. Everyone under my care would be dead. So do me a favor and accept the damn compliment for once." Arthur's eyebrows rose and he backed off a little.

"Uh...yes ma'am. I guess I'm just not used to it, is all." He apologized sheepishly. The tiger Faunus looked away from him, and he could tell his apology didn't entirely mollify the woman. "I can't accomplish what I promised to do if we're all swimming down to hell, and I was the only one who could make the shot. Not that your chains and exploding knives aren't something." He added the last one with a grin, and she glared at him. There was no heat in the look, however, and the two settled back down into a comfortable silence.

"It is strange." Sienna said after a minute or two. "I've spent my entire life witnessing the selfishness and depravity of man, and right when I'm doing something about it, here comes an example of everything I thought absent from mankind. Were it not for your tales of America, I would think you a Faunus in disguise." Given that she was a Faunus freedom fighter, Arthur assumed that she meant that as praise.

"People are people, Sienna. Like I told Adam, if we judged people by the worst examples, there would be no one left to trust. I know I'm not the best man in the world, and I'm okay with that, but it also tells me that most folk are just scared and looking out for themselves. I've seen evil, but I've seen far more good." Arthur leaned forward on the same railing she did, resting his forearms on the metal and nudging her with his shoulder. "Like a White Fang squad leader that hired a down on his luck cowboy and kept him from being killed by his own ignorance." She smiled softly at the praise, then nudged him back.

"I believe the saying I last heard was 'anyone worth a damn would have done the same'?"

"I hope you don't remember anymore phrases like that. Sounds like a real crook." Arthur joked, and Sienna laughed. She laughed a lot longer than he thought the joke warranted, which caused him to be concerned. Looking over at her from the corner of his eye, Arthur felt his blood run cold when she pulled out her scroll.

"He's a wise old cowboy, but I can't agree with his taste in men." She chuckled, and Arthur saw a picture on her scroll that made the blood drain from his face. There on her scroll was an image, one of him clutching tightly to Adam Taurus as if his life depended on it. The two were obviously unconscious, but it didn't make the evidence any less damning. The embarrassment from before came back full force, and Arthur swiped at the device in an attempt to grab it. He wasn't versed with the things well enough to know how to erase something on them, but by God he would make an effort.

Sienna dodged gracefully out of his reach, her laughter coming back full force as she avoided him with ease. The Faunus had the audacity to skip backwards from him as he chased her down, waving the offending device in a taunting manner. Her natural reflexes and experience made it easy for the woman to dodge around the corners and down the ladder, staying far enough ahead to escape his grasp while remaining close enough that he didn't give up the chase. They raced down to the main deck, Arthur cursing up a storm as he followed the laughing Faunus. The few White Fang that had made it topside just stared as their normally stoic commander laughed like a teenager, tossing her scroll from hand to hand as she dodged and ducked under Arthur's red faced attempts to capture her.

When they reached the flat deck where they had just fought a giant sea dragon, Arthur drew a length of rope from his satchel. _Tweak my nose, will ya?_ The loop of rope came to him almost naturally, and he wound it up a few times as he tracked Sienna's shifting form. He was almost ready to let it fly and drag her in when they arrived at his original spot. Adam was sitting up groggily, holding his head and groaning. Sienna kept close enough to Arthur that he couldn't see the downed teenager, then deftly jumped over him and allowed Arthur to trip over his legs.

The rope that he was swinging flew out in front of Arthur in a wasted throw, and the cowboy could only watch as the deck reached up to meet him a second time. As he slammed into the ground, Adam sat up again and looked around, completely out of the loop for why Sienna and the other White Fang members were all bent double laughing.

"What did I miss?" The young man muttered, and Arthur just slammed his own head into the deck a second time in defeat, his hat felling from its perch.

_I hate the ocean._


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** A lot of reconciliation and character development on this chapter. It occurred to me that I never fully had Arthur come to terms with the losses he had to face in America. Now that he's not running around saving people every which way and dying in the process, he has time to reflect. Also, he's a charmer and there's going to be a close call here. You thirsty assholes.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

The damage to the ship proved to be easy enough to repair, and they were back underway inside of eighteen hours. It was time Adam spent recovering, suffering from some light bruising and severe Aura depletion. Apparently, even though he could reflect stupid amounts of damage back at his opponents, it still required Aura to manipulate the energy. Since he sent back two blasts from a Sea Feilong, the angsty teenager was down for the count until they reached Mistral. Since he shared a cabin with Tukson, all parties involved though it would better to put Cain and Adam in the same room, and let Tukson and Arthur room together.

It gave Arthur plenty of time to mingle with the rest of the White Fang, like Tukson and Cain. He still spoke often with Sienna, though she was too busy for a serious heart to heart chat. In many ways, her leadership reminded him of Dutch, with how involved she was in the lives and goals of her followers. She didn't just boss people around and demand why things were not progressing. Sienna took charge and encouraged the White Fang, and worked with them to accomplish the tasks they had together, instead of berating them if an issue came up. That didn't mean she was immune to frustration, but she made it clear that she was upset with the results, not the people.

Thus, Tukson and Arthur found themselves spending the repair time chatting and trading stories. Arthur had told a few stories from his time with the Van der Linde gang, and Tukson had revealed that he was an aspiring writer.

"I've never seen someone get hurt by a book." Tukson said as they lounged in the cabin. "Sure, you can throw it at somebody or beat them with it, but a book in itself doesn't have a lot of malice in it. If it says something you don't like, you can simply close it and put it back. And they tell so many wonderful stories."

"You sure are in the wrong business if you like books so much." Arthur pointed out. "Seems like anything the White Fang publishes might not be accepted for a few years." Tukson shrugged at that.

"I'm close to getting out of the whole freedom fighter thing anyway. Sienna's a great leader, really, but she wants to fight more and take a harder edge with the Kingdoms. I didn't sign on to terrorize people." The Faunus had leaned back, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. "I have some family in Vale. I figured I could move there and open a bookstore or something. Nothing wrong with selling books."

Arthur nodded, but said nothing. Sienna had not been subtle with her designs; when she returned to Menagerie, she would be arguing to replace Ghira Belladonna as leader of the White Fang. It was part of why she had tried so hard to bring the construction supplies to Kuo Kuana. The village was growing, and needed more permanent leadership. Not only that, but Ghira had a daughter about to become a teenager. Not only did he have the responsibilities of a parent, but being the leader of the White Fang made his whole family a target for some of their more radical opponents.

"Do what you have to do. No one should be forced to fight when they don't want to. Self defense excluded, of course." He reasoned. "From what I know of Sienna, and I realize that it's not a lot, she seems understanding enough to let you live your life." Tukson grinned and pointing at Arthur, his knowing grin growing as the gunslinger's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Oh, I think you know her better than you think, Mr. Morgan. I'm not exaggerating when I say that you are her first human friend in years. Sienna grew up in Mistral, and while the racism was not as bad in most areas, but the places where people didn't like Faunus were brutal. In Atlas and Vale, they'd call us names or refuse service. In Mistral, they treated Faunus like we didn't even exist. No looks, no nods, no service; absolutely no interaction at all. We were considered unmentionable as citizens. Our demonstrations and rallies have done a lot to change that, but those were the years that Sienna grew up in. It's lingered with her, that's for sure. And yet, Arthur Morgan can befriend her in the process of a day." Arthur waved off his praise with a huff. She had already explained herself. He was honest, and she enjoyed that. Sure, she had a rough upbringing when it came to humanity, but Arthur hadn't been any different from a rogue Huntsman needing help. There was nothing special in what he had done for her, and no reason to anything different in how she treated him. She was just being friendly, is all. When he said so, Tukson only laughed again.

"Well, at least you're both clueless. Still, I can't understate how much you're doing for the White Fang." At Arthur's confused look, Tukson held up a hand. "Hear me out. Before she met you, Sienna was just as likely to speak to a human as she would strangle one. Too much mistrust and too many bad experiences over time. I joined the White Fang around the same time she did, and she was a lot angrier back then. But this past week or so, she's been more moderate than I've ever seen. She actually speaks to the humans on the crew, and she's made small talk with the captain. Given that she's probably about to take over the White Fang, you've done both of our races a world of good." Tukson sighed, scratching his head as he crossed his feet. "I made the decision to leave when she took power as soon as I knew she was gunning for it, but... if you had been around a month ago, I might have stayed."

"You can't put that much faith in me spending time with her over a week." Arthur defiantly challenged. "Yeah, she may be acting different, but that's still Sienna behaving that way. I'm not forcing her into being a different person." Seriously, how bad was she? The way Tukson said it, Sienna had possessed half a mind of wiping out humanity before he came along. Given what he knew of the woman and how smart she was, surely that was an exaggeration.

"That's just it though. The Lady Khan isn't some animal; she's always been planning and watching. But the doubts she's had about her own outlook had to have been there, or you never would have been as successful as you are. She doesn't _want_ to hurt people and attack convoys to get her way; she just feels that there's no other choice. Ghira's protests have had a positive effect, but it's not enough for her. She wants equal treatment for the Faunus as soon as possible, and she thinks that everyone that gets spit on and trampled between then and now should blame her for it." Ah. Kinda reminded Arthur of Captain Monroe; the bleeding heart Army captain that had tried to step in between the Wapiti Nation and a failed Civil War colonel on a glory binge. Just like how Tukson explained it, Monroe had taken it personally every time the Wapiti and the Army had clashed.

"She can't hold herself responsible like that. It ain't healthy." Arthur said quietly. "I can tell she cares about her people, even Adam. That boy has more reason to hate humans than she does, but he was willing to wait on us both instead of shipping out."

"Everyone in the White Fang respects the Khan. It just seems like you remind her that there is more to Sienna Khan than being the hero of the White Fang. She sometimes forgets that she's a person, not some messiah doomed to either absolute success or total failure. That's a lot of weight for a person to bear alone."

Huh. It made sense to an extent, but then again Arthur didn't know her quite like Tukson did. From the way the man described it, Sienna didn't have a good reason to trust him like she had. What was it she had said? That his honesty had been refreshing? He was no stranger to the evils and selfishness of mankind, but how many times did you need people to deceive you before you gave up on them entirely? Maybe the fact that there were truly differences between Faunus and humans made it easier, but Arthur couldn't imagine how badly it had to have been.

_I've been cussed and bruised as much as the rest of them, but... could I handle that? Being ignored and treated like you don't even exist?_ It wasn't a question he was going to see an answer to any time soon. Before he could tread down that morbid path, Arthur pulled his journal from his bag. Thumbing it open, he was somewhat surprised to see that despite his downtime, he hadn't written the first page since he'd come to Remnant. The last page written had been the words of a dying man, one who reflected upon a life of mistakes and poor choices. Now, he was in a whole new land, and had quite a bit of opportunity in front of him.

As he pulled his pen and began to write, two more things occurred to him. Number one, he couldn't think of anywhere to start. Number two... should he really continued the journal here? Or would it be better to start a new one, to go along with the new chapter in his life? Everything he had written in the journal so far had been since that cold, frosty night after the Blackwater heist went bad. Every loss, every fallen friend, and every frustrated thought had been poured into his journal. There were good things too; illustrations of amazing and unique sights in the American frontier, the many wonderful people he had met. But it was over now. As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't have a clear picture on how to get back to the U.S. Summer had said something about using the Relic, but what was the likelihood of him getting to use the very thing he had been asked to deliver?

"So, you like books a lot, huh?" Arthur began, changing the subject before they strayed into dangerous territory. "You want a good novel idea?" Tukson looked like he was about to call Arthur out on starting a new topic, but his curiosity won out.

"Sure. What do you have in mind?" Arthur huffed and thumbed through his journal absently, not really reading it so much as remembering all the things he had recorded in it. It felt like half his life, when really it had only been one, maybe two years at the most. The world had been against them, though, save for a few kind strangers. If Tukson wanted to get out of the White Fang successfully, he was going to need some money.

"How 'bout a western?" Arthur asked hopefully. He tried not to be insulted when Tukson barked out a harsh laugh, covering his mouth with his hand and shaking his head.

"Are you kidding? Arthur, I know I _sound_ wise and world traveled, but I don't know enough about western stories to write more than some waiting room, hundred page hero spiel. Besides, those stories don't have enough substance to them." The gunslinger knew where he was coming from. Back in the States, he'd read the 'cowboy stories' while sitting in a waiting room or waiting for a ferry. They had carried elements of truth, but they'd been exaggerated and cut off too early.

"Well, the problem with that is they end too early. They show the cowboy riding off into the sunset like he gets to live a happy life. They don't say that it's the last time he ever felt happy." Arthur shook his head. "No, I'm talking a _real_ outlaw story. One with betrayal, train robberies, even a shipwreck on a distant island. You interested?" Tukson leaned forward, rubbing his hands together with a gleam in his eye. Now, Arthur could see that hunger for the story. The man had at least told the truth there.

"I'll admit, you have my attention. My only question is why you haven't written one, if you have such a resource?" This time, it was Arthur's turn to laugh.

"Tukson, I've only known you for a spell, but you have to know by now that wordplay ain't really my specialty, especially once you put them on paper. I've wrestled hogs that were less frustrating than writing for a book. But I did jot down a few things, draw a few more." Arthur hesitated, wondering if he was overstepping his bounds a little here. "My whole life, I was running from something. The law, outlaws, hell even wild animals sometimes. But when the time came to get out, I didn't take the opportunity I'd been given. Now Sienna is gonna do her damnedest to do right by the White Fang, and I trust her. But if you want to get out and stay out, then this might be what you need." With that, he held out the journal for the Faunus to take. He did so, and when he opened the first page, the Blackwater ledger greeted him. Numbers, details of robberies, heists, and all the other stupid things they had gotten up to before the gang fracture danced before Tukson's eyes, and Arthur couldn't help but grin as he turned the page with more fervor. The next page was Arthur grieving Davey and Jenny, stuck in the abandoned, frozen town of Colter waiting for the snow to thaw.

Saving John from a pack of wolves, hunting with Charles when food got scarce, ambushing the O'Driscolls; every day it had seemed like they were in for one adventure or another. Sure, there had been down time, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to write down and draw the things he had seen. But there was enough material in that journal to give Tukson a real start.

"Arthur, this is..." Tukson struggled for words. "I don't know what to say. Is this, did all of this really...happen?" The gunslinger smirked, and took that as his cue to leave. He stood up, cracking his back and groaning contentedly as Tukson greedily drank in the story written on the pages.

"I leave that to you to figure out, my friend. I'm gonna go see what our illustrious leader is up to. You look like you've got some reading to do." He patted Tukson on the shoulder, leaving the bewildered man to soak in the adventures of an outlaw named Arthur Morgan.

The hall outside of the crew cabins was cramped, and two people could barely walk down them side by side. Thankfully, everyone else was bustling around the ship already, and with Adam on bed rest, the chances of Arthur's day being ruined were lower than usual. A trek topside to the bridge did not yield Sienna, however, and neither did her personal quarters. The sailors were all attending to their duties, and Arthur wasn't going to interrupt them for the sake of curiosity. Land was a day away, and they were stuck between double checking the repairs and preparing for docking.

After about half an hour of wandering the ship and hoping to run into her, Arthur gave up and decided to head down to the hold. Famine was likely getting lonely, and he probably could do with a good brushing anyway. As Arthur walked down the ladder and turned the corner to where Famine was boarded, he was greeted by an unexpected sight.

Sienna was grooming Famine already, running the brush over his sleek black coat and petting him gently. Now, Famine was the farthest thing from a tortured horse, and Arthur held to a personal motto of 'he who mistreats his horse mistreats himself'. But if a horse could look smug, the black Arabian being groomed by the future leader of the White Fang just oozed it. Arthur cleared his throat to announce himself, and Sienna turned to look at him with a grin. She didn't quit brushing though.

_Control yourself, man. You are NOT jealous of a horse._

"Hello Arthur. I was wondering when you would come down here." She greeted, scratching Famine behind and ear as she moved toward his side. "The captain says we'll be docked by noon tomorrow if the weather holds, and I ran out of things to do." As she said that, Arthur became aware of another aspect of horse care. A stale stink of manure struck his nose, and he grimaced. Just how bad did that look, Sienna coming down to visit the horse and he hadn't mucked the stall? He grabbed a shovel and a bucket from next to the bulkhead and stepped behind Famine, trusting the horse and Sienna to not get him kicked.

"You know, there are some people who are real touchy about their horses." He said imperiously, giving Sienna a wink over Famine's back to know he was kidding. "A woman coming down to care for a man's horse might have to contend with some nasty rumors." Sienna 'hmm'ed in response and finished brushing Famine's flank, giving the horse a few more pats before she sat the brush down next to its saddle on the deck. She watched Arthur gather up the horse's leavings as best he could, leaning up against the bulkhead while the gunslinger worked.

"I can assure you, I'm above any rumors that might come around, especially those that are untrue." Ouch. Arthur winced good-naturedly and finished his task, grabbing the bucket and heading toward the ladder to dump it out over the edge. The tiger Faunus stroked Famine's cheek a few more times in farewell, the fell in a tolerable distance behind him. One of the downsides to being a Faunus was the sensitive nose, and Arthur _was _carrying around a bucket of shit.

"Well, if we're making as good of progress as everyone says, it looks like tonight's the night I finish off my whiskey." Arthur shrugged, reminding himself to dig out the bottles from his saddlebags. "Figure by the time we reach land, there will be too much to focus on to be liquored up." He reached the main deck and turned immediately, dumping out the excrement into the ocean below. He shook the bucket for good measure, then set it down next to him and dusted his hands off. With the source of the odor gone, Sienna was free to stand next to him.

"I doubt Tukson will appreciate having a drunk cowboy for a roommate." She commented. Arthur chuckled at the image of Tukson trying to read while he was singing off key. That would be quite unfortunate.

"I've given him something to do, and I ain't gonna bother him with it. I figured since the sailors loaned me some of their stuff, I might share some of mine." He'd already cleaned his guns and organized his gear to quickly disembark when they reached Mistral. About the only thing he had left to do was drink, and he'd be damned it he did so alone.

"Well, if you're planning on sharing a drink, why not do it with me?" Sienna offered innocently, staring out at the sea. Arthur looked at her with a start, then looked away before she could catch his surprise. She was asking him to come to quarters? A moment later, he felt like smacking himself. Who the hell was he, Lenny? Jumping at the first conclusion like a youngster around the first girl he ever fancied. There was nothing wrong with a drink between friends, and Sienna had some seriously heavy responsibilities ahead of her. If she wanted to blow off some steam and have a drink, who was he to say no?

"That sounds like a fine idea." He smiled, and was relieved when she returned it with a grin of her own. "You nervous about what's coming? I don't know a lot about y'all and your politics, but what I've heard makes me think that you are about to become a very important woman." He expected her to grin and joke about it, or maybe take it stoically like he saw her do countless times with the rest of the White Fang. Instead, she sighed.

"It's a step in the right an direction, and it's what we need. But I can already tell it won't be pleasant." She leaned against the railing, this time putting all her weight on it. It was a beautiful day, and the sea breeze was tame and comfortable. Yet here was Sienna Khan, slumped over a railing and looking miserable.

"Leading people ain't never pleasant. It's why I never wanted the job." Arthur said, turning to rest one arm on the edge and letting the other fall to his side. "Not just anybody can lead, Miss Khan. That's part of makes you so special." Sienna scoffed.

"Please. If he weren't so prone to letting his anger guide him, _Adam _could lead the White Fang. You just have to get everyone in a room, tell them what to do and the consequences of not doing. I..." She faltered. "I don't want to take the White Fang from Ghira, but he's content with what he has. The Faunus are far better now than they were after the war, and he thinks that is enough. I disagree. But it means I must to take his place, and I can't help but feel like I'm betraying him."

"Have you talked to him about this?" Arthur asked. When Sienna looked down at the water instead of back at him, the gunslinger groaned and rubbed his nose. "Of course you haven't."

"Until I'm declared leader, I'd be challenging him in open rebellion." She insisted. "If the decision isn't made quickly, the White Fang could fracture, pitting my supporters against his. Even if we both want peace within the ranks, members from each side would use the schism as an excuse to act irrationally. I have to bring it up when I'm ready to push for it."

"I can see why you disagreed with protesting." Arthur muttered, knowing full well her ears picked it up from how they twitched. "He sounds like he's used to gradually making progress. Sudden, violent change ain't gonna be a good selling point with him. And besides, your supporters are already pulling for you whether you want them to or not. It seems like the only time they _don't_ talk about you taking over is when you're in the room." Sienna's shoulders hunched even further, and he heard the metal groan as she gripped the rail. Uh huh. Duly noted, she could bend metal with her strength. If things kept up like they seemed, she'd either beat him with the bars on the edge of the ship or throw herself off of the boat entirely to avoid the hassle.

"I respect Belladonna, but I know he isn't doing what we need. If he would just listen, I wouldn't have to force him out. Every time I've brought up how we need more action, he's been so quick to say no that I feel as if he's given up." She threw her hands into the air and stepped back, a rare moment of unrestrained frustration escaping her. Arthur discreetly looked around to see if there were any White Fang watching, but thankfully they had all gone down below decks. Good, they didn't need to see their leader picking herself apart.

"Tell you what." Arthur said as he patted her on the shoulder. "I'll go grab some glasses and some drinks, and I'll meet you in your cabin. That way, we can talk all about it without you making a scene. Sound good?" She didn't respond verbally, but just nodded and sighed. Drawing herself up once more, the Khan resumed her usual demeanor and gave him a regal nod. With that, she turned and walked back to the hatch that led down to the crew quarters. Arthur watched her until the hatch closed behind her, then turned and looked out toward the sea.

"You fool, Arthur Morgan. What the hell have you gotten into?" Still, as promised he went down to the hold and retrieved his alcohol like any stranded cowboy would, and thirty minutes later presented himself in front of Sienna's cabin. He would have knocked, but she opened the door for him before he had the chance. Trying to keep the surprise off of his face, Arthur held up two bottles of Kentucky whiskey and a decanter of fine brandy.

"Your drinks, my lady Khan." He said with a bow. Sienna smirked at his attempt at humor, then looked down the hall both ways. Seeing that there was no one witnessing Arthur walk into the Khan's cabin with alcohol and a smile, she quickly grabbed him by the vest and hauled him inside. Arthur tottered in with a surprised grunt, struggling not to drop his offerings, trip, or crush Sienna against the wall all at once. It was a task for a sober man, which he thankfully still was for the moment.

"Sorry about that." Sienna apologized quietly. "With everything else that's going on, the last thing I need is gossip reaching the wrong people." Arthur accepting her explanation with as much grace as he could muster, though he didn't really appreciate being a dirty little secret. Still, it wasn't like they were stripping clothes off and getting biblical with each other, so he couldn't fault her for wanting to avoid unscrupulous lies.

"Don't worry so much about it. From everything I can tell, your whole team is dedicated to you. That, and besides our angry bull they like me just fine too." Arthur coughed and took in the cabin.

It wasn't much to talk about really. A small chair and desk sat next to the door, which took the bottles of whiskey with room to spare. Six feet away from the door, a modest cot sat with Sienna's bag underneath it. To the right of the cot was a porthole that looked out at the sea. Across from it, a small head provided basic sanitation needs, including a shower. The only thing that set Sienna's cabin aside from the rest was the fact that there was only one bed. Arthur turned the metal chair around to face the cot and sat down heavily, gesturing toward it with his free hand. Sienna stepped past him, taking a glass from him as she passed. Arthur dug into his satchel for the other one, and opened the first whiskey bottle with a pull of his teeth. Instead of spitting it out onto the floor like a vagabond, he poured them both a few fingers and set the stopper down on the table next to bottle. He was in the presence of a lady, after all.

"Thank you for this, Arthur." Sienna said gratefully. She sipped the whiskey, and to his fading surprise had little reaction besides a slight grimace. The more he spoke with her, the more Arthur came to realize that there was very little that was normal about Sienna Khan. Besides the things perched on top of her head, of course.

"It's what needs to be done. You don't owe me nothing." Arthur knocked his glass back in one go, grinning through it as the whiskey blazed a fire down his throat. "Now, whatever you want to talk about, let it fly. We'll get it taken care of until the troubles run out or the booze does." He deftly topped himself off, then sat back patiently.

"I think I'm aware of my troubles." She said wryly, taking another sip and nearly emptying the glass. Somehow, she made drinking whiskey from a cheap trail glass look regal. Maybe it was the outfit. "What I would like to know is what you've done to Tukson. I checked on him on the way here, and it took me knocking three times to get him to the door. I asked him if he was okay, and he just gave me this look." Sienna tried to put forth a look of bewilderment, but it didn't have the same effect that Tukson's had.

"If I had to guess, he's found himself a good book to read." Arthur replied ambiguously. Sienna's ears flattened as she gave him a look, and he finally relented. "You never told anybody about where I came from?"

"Who would believe me? I heard it from the man himself, and it took everything I know about humans to not call you a liar." She pointed to her cat ears in emphasis. "There are some things you can fake, Arthur, but if you have figured out how to slow your heartbeat when telling a lie _every time you tell it_, then you are a better infiltrator than I will ever be." Arthur looked at her for a moment, reminding himself not for the first time that her Faunus heritage was more than just for show. He never thought about her using it to check him for deceit, though.

"Well, that explains some things, I guess. I gave him my journal, the one I wrote in for the past few years. At first he didn't believe me, but I'd bet my horse you were the first person he's spoken to since I left the cabin." Sienna's eyes widened, and Arthur took another swig.

"Why would you do that?" Arthur shrugged, looked at her again, then took another pull.

"I'm sure he's told you already, but Tukson Stark is not long for the White Fang. From what he tells me, you are going to make things more violent, and he's already tired of fighting." Arthur held up a hand when she rose from the cot, fury dancing in her eyes. "I told him why you were doing what you're doing, don't worry. It ain't so much what you're doing as it is that he's tired. He's wore out from having to fight for what he wants, and the way things are now, he thinks he can have the life he wants." Sienna glared at him for a few moments, then slowly sank back onto the cot. She sighed heavily, finishing her glass without a sound and waving for another. Instead of leaning forward and pouring it for her, Arthur just tossed her the bottle entirely. She caught it deftly, sloshing another four fingers worth from the half empty bottle into her glass. Once that was done, she upended the glass with a groan, then filled it up again.

"I'm not trying to hurt people, Arthur." She gasped, the fire burning down to her belly and bringing some heat into her cheeks. "If they would just treat us like we are people, not animals, then I wouldn't have to do anything. But I will not tolerate anyone treating my people like they are lesser beings. Like we somehow deserve less just for being different!"

"I know. I know. But you know better than I do that it goes against human nature to be fair. I ain't sayin' it's impossible, but being decent like that actually takes effort. At the end of the day, it's them being selfish and lazy that causes you so much grief." He'd distracted her from asking about him, answering the way he did. Arthur hadn't meant to broach such a sore topic, but the reason he was there was to get Sienna to blow off all the steam she had packed up. The woman was a walking time bomb of anxiety and battle chains.

"I...I don't fault him for leaving, but Tukson has been with the White Fang for some time. Losing him feels like he's turning his back on us. I know he isn't, but it feels that way." And suddenly, Arthur wasn't sitting with Sienna Khan on a ship bound for Mistral. Instead, he was looking at Dutch Van der Linde, cussing up a storm about John Marston after the latter disappeared for the better part of a year. The argument was very similar, only Sienna wasn't hostile about it towards Tukson. Not yet, anyway. The sudden lucid moment left as soon as it came, and Arthur took another pull of his whiskey.

"The difference between you and Tukson is what you want. When he signed up, things were a lot worse for you folks, right?" Sienna nodded, drinking some more. "Maybe he's reached the point that he was fighting for? You won't stop until you get absolute equality, but Tukson doesn't need that. All he needs is the right to open up a bookstore somewhere and retire from this life of frustration and freedom fighting. I think he deserves a break, at least." If he had been able to catch Dutch before Micah had poisoned his mind, maybe they could have had this chat about John. _But I was just as ill about John leaving as Dutch was._ Arthur reminded himself. He didn't have the wisdom back then that he had now.

"I won't hold it against him, and I won't tolerate anyone else who does." Sienna said resolutely. Her amber eyes settled on him with interest once more. "But back to the matter at hand, what was it he read that shut him in so effectively? Do not tell me that the life of Arthur Morgan was that impressive?" Arthur barked a harsh laugh at that, and Sienna thankfully chuckled as well.

"Impressive? Hell no. It'd be more accurate to say that I drifted from one cluster fuck to another on a near constant basis. Pardon my French." He added at the last minute, not really recognizing that Sienna had no idea where France was. "Since he didn't know that I'm not really from around here, he thinks it's just a long story I wrote down in my spare time. I reckon by the time he reaches the end, he'll fill in the blanks. But for now, that's probably going to be the novel that gets him his bookstore." All it took was sacrificing the one thing that Arthur had used to hold himself together, and keep up with all the strange and horrid things that had happened to him. He wasn't going to forget any of it any time soon, but recording it in a journal gave him an illusion of control over the events. It let him look back on how he thought then, and make better choices moving forward.

"That's quite generous of you. Of course, I'm beginning to doubt that you have ever been selfish, as often as you help people you've never met." Sienna finished her drink and poured another, and this time Arthur noticed she was swaying slightly. Either the ship was hitting some waves, or the indomitable tigress was finally feeling the liquor. Arthur knew his face was flushed, and a pleasant buzz filled his head as he unstopped the second bottle of whiskey.

"You're just saying that because I never stole from you. Trust me, there's a lot of people out there that think I'm a selfish ass." Arthur chuckled to himself as he said it. "They ain't far off, neither."

"Very well, if you say so." Her tone implied that she didn't believe it. "Still, I am curious about what happened to bring you to us. Don't get me wrong, I'm so very glad you did, but when we met you said that you were nearly killed by an infection? How did all of that happen?" Oh boy. That whole thing. Well, if she wanted to know, he'd have to go all the way back to when the gang camped out at Horseshoe Overlook.

"Yeah, I'm not gonna need this any more." Arthur swallowed the last of the drink in his glass, then grabbed his bottle by the neck. Bringing it to his lips, Arthur greedily took two pulls before he released it with a gasp.

"Alright, so here's the beginning of it. About a year and a half ago, one of ours, a man named Leopold Strauss goes into town like he always does and goes lookin' for folks down on their luck. He catches 'em at their weakest and offers them a loan at ungodly rates, then sends me to collect when they don't pay. One of these poor souls was a man named Thomas Downes." And so, one of Arthur's greatest shames played out. How he went to Downes' home in the evening. How he berated and threatened a sick, gentle man who had made a mistake. How he beat the man nearly to death in front of his family, all the while claiming that Downes had it coming for taking on a debt he couldn't handle. And from there, the floodgates opened. He told her about the train robberies, about saving Sean from Blackwater only to watching him get shot in Rhodes. Arthur spoke of Kieran, the boy the O'Driscolls had found not long before Arthur had captured him. He told Sienna all about how he berated and chewed the boy, despite his every assurance and effort that he was a part of the Van der Linde gang. He told her how Kieran had gone missing one day, and no one had care. How he had come riding in to camp at Shady Belle, his corpse holding his own head in its lap just before the O'Driscolls attacked.

He told her about Rains Fall and Eagle Flies and their doomed dispute with the government. He told her how Dutch had fueled the young brave's rage, and focused it toward a selfish goal. He swore as he recounted the ride back to the reservation, the dying boy bleeding all over his back. Hosea, Lenny, John; he'd let them all down.

And lastly, he told her about the Downes family, and how Mrs. Downes was whoring herself out to villains and lowlifes while her son was abused in the Annesburg coal mine. Sienna remained calm and attentive as Arthur very nearly teared up, explaining how he had thrown as much money at them as they would take in a futile attempt to make their lives better again.

"So you see, girl. I'm not a good man like people tell me." Arthur finished his bottle, which had dwindled steadily during his hour long tale. "Too many others are dead where I'm not, and if I could take their place I'd do it in a heartbeat. I've done terrible things, and by some bitter irony I'm still around to see them get worse." When Arthur went silent, the cabin remained so for a horribly long time. Sienna said nothing, her eyes on the floor as he struggled to rein in his emotions. Working with the White Fang and staying focused had done wonders to help him forget what he had left behind, but now as he sat there, recounting his exploits to a friend that thought far higher of him than he deserved, every failure and lie and murder came crashing back down on him. It was almost enough to drown him, had he not weathered it time and again. But he had a purpose now; Summer had seen to that. And he would repay her kindness if it killed him.

"I disagree." Sienna said quietly. Arthur glanced up at her in equal parts disbelief and curiosity. "You did what you could for the people you care about, in an unkind and punishing world. You didn't face the same level of discrimination like I did, but you had to fight to protect your family nearly every day. That takes a rare kind of strength, Arthur. And you didn't take the money out of greed. You were so far out of society's favor, your only hope for a normal life was to make something of yourselves. I'm envious, actually." Arthur actually did blanch at that.

"The hell are you talking about?" He slurred, half drunk on alcohol and cynicism.

"The whole time you were fighting, you never had to ask yourself if you were doing the right thing. You followed Dutch's lead, and Hosea's, and your own moral code when those two were of no help. In the end, you knew what you were going to do long before you ever did anything. There was no time for doubt." Sienna finished her bottle as well, letting it fall to floor with a clink and roll with the motion of the ship. "I'm sure there are a few things Dutch Van der Linde could tell me about leading a lost cause."

"You ain't leading a lost cause. There's more than just a handful of people that believe in you. You've got real progress to go off of, not just a constant battle to stay alive. And as for Dutch," Arthur's eyes darkened, and he set his hat down on the table next to him. "I'd say he'd be just as lost as you are. The only difference being, you aren't accusing the people you care about of betraying you."

Sienna didn't seem to accept his words, but she didn't outright deny them either. It just felt like he was telling her a truth that he saw, when she couldn't find any trace of it. Just like his own origins, his faith in her was true to him, but she just couldn't see it. Then again, he was a cowboy from another continent who trusted strangers a little too well in the first place.

"There's just one more thing I'm curious about." She said slowly, as much because she knew it was a heavy question as to her inebriation. "When I poked around in your bags the day we left Vacuo, I saw a ring. Whatever happened to Mrs. Morgan?" Arthur stiffened at that, and the most pain he'd ever shown in the time he'd told his tale crossed his face. He sighed, the tension not quite leaving his shoulders, and she could tell that despite his effort to take her mind off of the coming storm, he was fighting whether or not to tell her. Luckily, it looked like she had won out, because he grabbed the brandy and stood up. He swayed when he did so, his already hindered balance not handling the roll of the ship too well, and Sienna had to grab his hand to guide him over to the cot. He fell down heavily, slumping against her for a moment before he found his strength again.

"I'm gonna need the brandy for this one." He led with, and uncorked the decanter. He swigged it slowly, but still managed to drink a third of it before he stopped. When he finished, he handed the container to Sienna, as much an offering as it was to keep him from finishing the whole thing himself.

"In my youth, I got mixed up with a woman named Mary Gillis." Arthur started slowly, digging into his satchel. When his hand came out, the letter and the ring came with it. It was a small, insignificant thing, but he cradled it like it outweighed the world. Such a small thing, and it carried so much sadness with him. And yet, if he threw it away, he would throw away all the things that made him happy too.

"We were in love, real and true." The emotion in his voice was broken, sad and regretful. "I loved her, and I know she loved me just as bad. But this lifestyle drove us apart. Her father owned a horse farm, the kind that sells high priced animals to queens and nobles and rich oil magnates. He looked down on me whenever he could, provided he wasn't chasing skirts or drinking a bar dry somewhere. Total hypocrite." Arthur waved the thought away like it was a cobweb in front of his face. "Anyway, we separated, and she went off to get married. Told me she'd never see me again. And for a while, she told the truth. I got married, had a son and a wife. Lost them both to bandits while me and Dutch were out doing our thing. Came to find out years later, Mary Gillis became Mary Linton, and then she became a widow."

Sienna immediately saw how this was going to go and took a generous pull from the brandy, then handed it back to Arthur. He nodded in thanks, then took one for himself too and handed it back.

"Her brother went missing when we were in Valentine, and she wrote me and asked me to find him. He joined some silly turtle cult or something called the Chelosians. I brought to boy back without too much trouble, and hear from her again until we were in Saint Denis. I watched her Pa try to sell a priceless brooch that had belonged to her mother, and Mary decided we should see a show and walk around the city for a spell. Like normal people. It was enough to fool me into thinking that maybe we had a chance." Arthur went silent and stared down at the ring in his hand. He slowly set it down on his knee, watching it as if it would jump up and scurry off if he left it unsupervised. With both hands free, he gently unfolded the letter from Mary, his eyes dancing over it again.

Sienna watched as he did so, resisting the admittedly strong urge to read the words on the page. They were not meant for her, she reminded herself, and the sorrow on his face told her everything she needed to know.

"I was a fool to love her, and an even bigger fool to leave her like I did. Eventually, a woman in her position has to marry somebody. Another man came along, and she sent me my ring back. She said that she hoped I could use it to bring joy to someone else, because every time she saw it she felt nothing but pain. Now, I guess I know how she felt." He heaved a heavy sigh, then grabbed the ring and placed it and the letter back in the envelope they had come in. With his misery safely packaged, Arthur stuck it carefully back into his satchel.

"I imagine someone in her position has certain expectations." Sienna's voice did not hold the sincerity of her words. "But I also know that she saw you for what you fail to see. You are a good, kind man Arthur. You cannot allow the evils of the world to let you forget that. There are people alive and happy right now because of you. Had you not helped us in Vacuo, I fear that I would have been forced to kill for these supplies." Arthur glanced over at her in surprise, and this time it was her turn to pull on the brandy and sigh. "The materials we gathered are critical to getting Ghira to step down. If I don't take over, the White Fang will fail and our people will be subjugated and oppressed. I could not allow that to happen."

"You'd have found some way to make it work." Arthur argued. Sienna laughed hollowly at that.

"Why should I? I was buying overpriced goods from the very people responsible for the struggle I fight every single day. Why should I have restrained myself, when I have personally witnessed countless times when they did not?" She drank again and then handed the last of the brandy back to Arthur. He finished it slowly, then let the decanter join the whiskey bottles in floor. When had the other one gotten down there?

"I have faith that you would have found a way." Arthur said with the kind of conviction a religious man would have. "You care too much about your people to let them be treated like animals. And you know as well as I do how rebels and murderers get treated. I know you would have figured something out."

"Hmm." She didn't seem to believe him, but Sienna let it go and leaned with the sway of the ship. That whimsical urge put her shoulder to shoulder with the gunslinger, his larger frame taking her without complaint. "I am glad to have met you, Arthur Morgan. You are a better man than you give yourself credit for."

"Well, if the Lady Khan says it, I guess it's some kind of true." Arthur declared with a grin, earning a swat on the arm. He turned to look at her, her amber eyes lidded with contentment and her cheeks a dusky shade of red. Even with the ears on her head, she struck him as an exotic woman, strong and fierce and ready to protect all she held dear. When Sienna looked at him, she saw a world weary man that hated himself more than anything else in the world, and did his best to help the people he cared about. Since he was here, sharing his story with her and trying to bear her burden with her, she assumed that meant that she fell into that category.

The night blurred together after that, and neither one could really recall anything that happened further.

* * *

The rocking of the ship had been a constant thing, so it was something of a surprise that it woke Arthur up with such force. He sat up in a rush, completely unaware of his surroundings, and only succeeded in slamming his forehead into the cot above him. Coupled with the splitting headache the hangover gave him, Arthur groaned piteously and just laid there on the floor for a moment, trying to keep his rebellious stomach in check.

_Wait, the floor?_ The last thing he remembered, he and Sienna had been swapping stories, and then the brandy had been uncorked. Considering the decanter was under his head like the world's most unforgiving pillow, it had obviously gone quickly.

"Morgan, you fool." He chastised himself, voice rough with drink and sleepiness. Another groan above answered him, and Arthur came to the second conclusion of the morning. He had not woken up inside his cabin. Looking down, Arthur found his third realization not far behind. He was clad in his boots, pants, and shirt, but his vest was nowhere to be found. The white alligator hide garment was AWOL, and He'd be sure to find it as soon as the navy stopped firing cannons inside of his skull.

The cool floor provided a reprieve for only so long, and eventually Arthur was forced to stand. As he slowly climbed to his feet, the nausea and headache only increased in severity, and he was forced to consider an escape route to the head. Thankfully, his lunch stayed where it belonged, and he wasn't going to have to explain to Sienna why her toilet was a different color. Speaking of Sienna, he turned and blearily looked down at the cot next to him.

Sienna Khan, the respected squad leader of the White Fang and its future Supreme Leader, was snoring. Not the loud, obnoxious sound like when Bill shifted in his tent at night, but just a light breath of air through her nose every now and again. In lieu of her blanket, his now discovered vest covered her upper body, unbuttoned and spread out like a blanket. Some time during their talk, he must have covered her up after she fell asleep. The fact that he'd passed out onto the floor afterwards was somehow less surprising.

_She can keep it for now._ He decided, groaning again as his head continued to pound. His hat still sat on the table next to the hatch. Groggily staggering over to it, Arthur collapsed into the chair and grabbed his hat, sticking it on his head and avoiding the few light sources in the room. Maybe if he took another nap, the pain would go away...

_CLANK CLANK CLANK!_

"Jesus fucking Christ..." Arthur grumbled as the hatch next to him took a beating. Whoever was outside must not have heard him, because they gave it another series of blows that echoed in Arthur's head. Over on the cot, Sienna shifted and groaned, pawing at her ears in a feeble attempt to keep out the calamitous noise.

"Lady Khan! We have a message from Leader Belladonna!" Was that Tukson's voice? Didn't the guy have enough to do already? "Also, I can't find Arthur anywhere. Have you seen him?" _Yeah, he's right here,_ Arthur wanted to say. Still, she was discreet last night because she didn't need any rumors starting so close to her promotion. As such, Arthur wisely stayed silent.

Sienna, however, was still afflicted by the morning's horrors and stood up quickly. Her feline grace was only partially present as she staggered to the door, one arm through the hole of Arthur's unbuttoned vest. He started to say something, were it not for the dead and impatient look in her eyes.

Sienna threw the hatch open with a vengeance, revealing Tukson's face and his hand raised to knock again. Whatever greeting the man had died on his tongue, however, and his eyes nearly widened enough to explode out of his face. Standing there, in all her majesty, was Lady Khan. Wearing half of Arthur's vest, her hair matted and disheveled, her eyes lidded both from exhaustion and a total lack of patience and understanding. To her left and not wearing his vest (because she was), the missing Arthur Morgan sat rubbing his temples.

"Morning." Arthur said sarcastically.

The combination of Arthur and Sienna, as well as the implication of their situation, totally shut down Tukson's brain. It took all the information from Ghira's call and the captain's update and threw them out the window in the face of the most scandalous looking thing he had ever seen with his own two eyes. Added to the fact that he had read all of Arthur's journal and was fairly certain that the man was either an alien or a time traveler, discovering him in Sienna's room was doubly confounding.

"Uh." Was the eloquent response Tukson came up with. Sienna stared at him as he continued to gape, his jaw working uselessly and no sound coming out.

"Report." She stated it. She didn't order it, she didn't ask nicely. Sienna simply said the word and let the implications behind her anger make themselves known. Thankfully, Tukson's years in the White Fang had instilled in him a certain sense of self preservation.

"You know, I think I'll come back later. You seem busy." He was gone before Sienna could slam the door closed, running like his life depended on it. And if her coordination hadn't been hampered by the hangover, it probably would have been.

"Way to avoid the rumor, Sienna." Arthur pointed out, keeping the brim of his hat down to protect himself from all the light in the room. The tigress turned and looked at him, then looked down at the vest that still clung to her lithe, muscular frame. She was wearing her regular dress and boots underneath it, but it had certainly hidden that fact well. Coupled with the fact that Tukson had been looking for Arthur as well...

Sienna could only sigh heavily, and Arthur nodded as well. So much for squashing that rumor.

As the morning shifted closer to afternoon and the two fully recovered from their embarrassing wake up call, Sienna and Arthur came to find out that Ghira had found success in his venture as well, and was already moving to the southern tip of the continent to prepare for transport to Menagerie. As such, Sienna's team was to meet him at the southern tip of Anima and he two teams would perform a total count of their supplies together and transport them from there. The other good news was that the ship was scheduled to dock just before noon.

Arthur had slunk out of Sienna's cabin when they were certain no other witnesses would come knocking. It gave Sienna time to get ready, and the two avoided each other until the ship reached Mistral's coast, with Arthur staying in the hold with Famine and Sienna directing the White Fang's final landing preparations. Arthur had made sure to catch Tukson, who had apologized profusely for interrupting. Arthur explained what had happened the previous night, or at least as best he could tell, and Tukson reluctantly admitted that he had thought something far more carnal had gone on. Arthur forgave him for it, on the condition that if he spread around what he did see, Sienna would be the first to know.

Watching the blood drain from the man's face told Arthur he had made the right call.

His hangover had been mostly handled by the time they made landfall, stopping in the coastal town of Trinity. Unlike Vacuo's pier, this one was much more lively and had a small village built around it. No one gave the White Fang any grief, though Arthur and his horse got strange looks. He made sure to get Famine ashore as fast as possible, both to get out of the way of the trucks and to stop him from leaving any more droppings in the cargo hold. Cleaning up horseshit was one thing, but doing it with a hangover just guaranteed that he'd be painting the walls with vomit.

Three hours later, the captain and his crew were compensated with the last of the White Fang's lien. Sienna thanked him for helping them, and Mathieson waved her off.

"If it weren't for you, we'd be down to Davy Jones." The captain said resolutely. "And you can be damned sure that we'll tell everyone who listens what you did for us." Sienna accepted his praise as graciously as she could, and soon she was in the first truck off the dock as they entered Mistral.

To say that it was different from Vacuo would be a colossal understatement. Whereas Vacuo had reminded Arthur of West Elizabeth, all rock and sand and hardy plants, Mistral was a temperate forest paradise. Massive trees towered over them, and there was nothing but grass and underbrush as far as the eye could see. The buildings in town were strangely eastern in design, with slanted, multi-tiered roofs and thin, sliding doors. Arthur had seen such descriptions about China and Japan, but nothing he'd seen in a newspaper or magazine could do the structures here justice. It truly was majestic.

The people were just as colorful. Same as in Vacuo, there was no limit to color when it came to hair and eyes. They wore more respectable clothing though, more styled for kimonos and robes than the tattered desert clothes of Vacuo. Sienna's outfit definitely looked more natural here. There were Faunus here and there two, and they seemed excited to hear that the White Fang were coming through. Many came out to see them, though Arthur was once again subjected to curious stares. Was it really so strange to see a human traveling with the White Fang?

Just as the last truck rolled out of the customs shop, Arthur heard a loud commotion coming from the ship. Fearing another Grimm attack, he started toward the pier with his hand on his weapon. Just as his boots met wood, however, the source of the disturbance was revealed: a young blonde boy was running from the sailors, mocking them with rude gestures as he ran. He wore a ratty t-shirt and blue jean shorts, and a blonde monkey tail protruded from his seat. The bare footed boy ran past Arthur, who could only watch with a wry grin as the kid disappeared into the crowd, forcing the sailors to give up lest they cause a scene.

_A stowaway, huh._ Arthur was impressed. _I didn't even know he was there._ Whatever the reason, the kid had come from Vacuo to Mistral, and there wasn't much getting him back now. Arthur wished him good luck, then slowly made his way to the White Fang column. When he saddled up next to the lead truck, Sienna rolled the window down on the passenger seat next to him.

"Are you ready, Mr. Morgan?" She asked neutrally, maintaining the image of the commander. Arthur tipped his hat to her and bowed a little, ready to take up escort position. It'd be like when they had guided wagons back in the States.

"As I'll ever be, Lady Khan. You lead, I'll follow." She smirked at his answer, then slapped the side of the truck with authority. The White Fang on the outside of the trucks stood a little straighter, and they held their weapons the way they had been trained. Their commander was demanding their service and protection, and like anyone that followed a true leader they would give it with gusto. Arthur felt a surge of pride as well as he watched the column slowly leave Trinity. This was what he thought he had had with Dutch. When more than half of them had passed him, Arthur pulled his hat down and fell in beside them.

Up above them, a black bird rode the sea breeze, its crimson eyes watching their every move.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **To the person who asked me if I intentionally shipped Arthur and Sienna while on a ship...no. That was not my intention, and they aren't shipping...yet. Eye of the Tiger is still a prospective ship, not set in stone. At least, that's what I tell myself.

* * *

**Chapter 6**

* * *

The Kingdom of Mistral was full of beautiful country, Grimm, and hardy people. Arthur had seen dusty towns grow up and collapse within a season back in America, but the villages they passed through on the way to Menagerie had stood for much longer. Sturdy, planned log houses were encircled by wooden walls, and the people that lived within them were cautious and strong. Many were happy to see the White Fang coming through, and Arthur handed out a few hard candies he had left over from America. The village children loved it, and they all clamored around Famine. The horse took their attention well, though he did get skittish if they got to close to walking underneath him. Arthur guided him away when they got close, but he still waved and tipped his hat. Arthur was pleased to see Faunus and human children playing together, and he was sure that Sienna enjoyed it as well. Sometimes, you needed little victories like that.

Two days passed on the road, the convoy only stopping to eat and rest. The fuel for the trucks was plentiful, but the fuel for the people was somewhat less so. To accommodate for the loss of truck number three, it's supplies had been split between the remaining vehicles. As such, Sienna had made the difficult call to leave behind some food move faster, hoping to reach Ghira's team before they ran out. Arthur was no drain on their supplies as he still had a few tins of biscuits and some canned foods from his time in America, but it was still a problem that burdened Sienna. The leader insisted that they take small calorie deductions for the group meals, and Tukson had reluctantly agreed.

The end of the second night, Arthur was brushing Famine down a few hundred feet away from the circle of trucks next to an old burned out house. The village they had stopped in this time was abandoned, and had likely fallen to Grimm or bandits years ago. It was saddening to have seen so many successful villages, then stand in the ruins of one that had not been so lucky. Worse still, bandits and scavengers didn't tend to take children's toys, and left them lying where Arthur could see them. From what he had seen of the Grimm, Arthur doubted that a small child could survive in the wilds for too long. Cold and afraid, huddled for warmth and their despair drawing in the creatures from all directions... it made Arthur shudder just to think about it. When little Jack had been taken by the Braithwaites in Rhodes, it had filled him with a cold rage to even think that the boy was in danger. Children in peril messed with most people on an instinctive level, and Arthur was no exception.

"Least I know he'll be safe now. Right, boy?" Arthur gave Famine an extra pat, and the horse nickered appreciatively. Grinning slightly, Arthur turned toward the camp to see if they had the fire started yet. When he did, he heard the faint rustle of foliage being moved behind him. Arthur turned quickly, tucking Famine's brush into his saddle bag and placing a hand on his revolver. He didn't call out, but slowly scanned the area for any signs of mischief. Sienna had chosen the village just as the sun was setting, so there was little light for him to see with. With his back to the camp, however, he wasn't blind to the night.

Another bush shook to his left, and Arthur drew. He kept Death pointed at the ground, but he knew more than anything that a Grimm would have attacked by now. Friend or foe, it was a person stalking him now.

"Come on out!" Arthur barked, loud enough to get attention from the White Fang. No one answered his challenge, but the forest remained quiet and still in the wake of his outburst. Behind him, he could hear questioning voices from the White Fang, though he didn't dare to take his eyes off of the trees. Here at the edge of the abandoned village, he was the most at risk for an ambush or attack, and he couldn't afford to be lax. Someone was watching them. The birds had stopped chirping and the squirrels and other small creatures had all hidden away, just like when a predator entered the area. The eerie calm that pervaded the area was a false one, and Arthur kept himself ready to react at even the slightest sound.

Pounding feet alerted him to backup arriving, and it came in the form of Adam Taurus. The teen slowed his pace as he reached Arthur, and looked around at the forest calmly. His hand remained on his sword, ready to draw it at any moment. The two sat still and quiet for a few minutes, then Adam turned toward Arthur slightly.

"What did you see?" Adam asked quietly, keeping his attention on the surrounding forest out of caution.

"I don't know." Arthur murmured, searching the darkness for any further sign of the threat. "Woods got real quiet, then I heard some rustlin'. If it's a Grimm, it's more patient than the ones we're used to. And if it's not..."

"We're being followed." Adam finished, a sneer on his face as he looked back toward camp. The trucks were circled as usual and most of the White Fang were bedding down in one of the burned out structures, but Arthur and Cain were the only ones outside of camp at the time. The only reason Arthur had seen anything was because he had wanted some peace and quiet.

"We need more guards." Arthur kept his voice low. "If someone's after us, we need at least two people up and watching at all times. They can sleep in the trucks when we're moving. Who all out of us can fight?"

"Cain and Tukson are proficient with pistols, and Felicia is adequate with a blade. Other than that, it's just you, me, and Sienna." Adam may not have liked Arthur, but at least he knew to put their differences aside this time. Still, six people that could fight out of nearly twenty was a bad number. If they were going to do two shifts at a time, they would need to get the others up to snuff.

"Keep everyone inside the village. We don't know the land out there, and stepping into those trees levels the playing field. As long as we remain here where they have to cross open ground, we have an advantage." Adam nodded along with Arthur's instructions, for once not getting all huffy about a human telling him what to do.

"Why don't we just challenge them? Go after them and push the attack?" Arthur shook his head.

"As soon as we step into those woods, it's their territory. We don't know how many of them there are, what weapons they have, or what they want with us. Considering the fact that we have six people capable of fighting, we can't afford to risk anyone. We play it defensive and play it safe, and hopefully they move on when they see we're being careful." Following his own advice, Arthur and Adam slowly backed up closer to the camp, keeping their eyes open and ears perked for any sign of attack. Sensing their mood, Famine remained quiet as well.

"And if they don't move on?" Arthur sighed heavily at that question. Adam voiced it like he was looking for a fight, but raids and bandit attacks didn't have the same flair Adam seemed to crave.

"You ever killed anyone before, son?" Arthur knew the answer when Adam didn't immediately answer, stiffening up at such a direct question. "Because if they break that treeline, killing will be the only way to stop them from doing terrible things to our people." Adam was silent the rest of the slow retreat, and when they got close to camp the forest had returned to its usual noise and activity. Crickets chirped, birds sang, and no one leaped out to kill them.

"You keep saying 'our people'," Adam stated just before they turned around. Arthur paused, waiting for the boy to finish his sentence. "Do you really consider us Faunus to be your people?" Adam's distrust was flaring up again, but the boy couldn't hide the faint flicker of hope that was in his voice. He was used to be lied to and talked down upon by humans. If Arthur really was different, then maybe things weren't as bleak as they seemed for the White Fang.

"I eat the food y'all make, I turn my back on you when I sleep. I'm out here, pointing a gun into the dark so you can be safe. If that don't make you my people, I don't know what will." Arthur left Adam on the perimeter to think, though hopefully he'd continue to keep an eye out for intruders. No matter what the boy thought, Sienna had to be brought up to speed on the new development.

Two more days passed at a hurried pace, the White Fang abandoning every concession in favor of speed. The sooner they reached Ghira, the less time was spent dodging whatever pursuer that had picked up. The mystery intruder stayed with them, though there was little sign of them besides the occasional rustling in the foliage and the general feeling that they were being watched. Arthur and Adam had started clearing and scoping out the areas near camp. They wouldn't stray for long, and always went together, but it helped to reduce the advantage of whomever was following them. The one good news was that the long time without an attack pretty much eliminated the chance that they were being stalked by a Grimm.

The other good news was that Arthur had finished his meds for treating his TB. After setting up camp next to the calm waters of a river, Arthur sat down heavily onto a log near the edge of camp. He took the last pill and stashed the empty bottle with a smile, glad and in more than a little disbelief that he had beaten the deadly disease. It reminded him of why he was helping Summer, and Sienna by proxy; he had been given another chance at life. Had it not been for Summer Rose, he would most likely have died the night he had met her. Instead, he was protecting a Faunus Rights Group from some unknown stalker. _The crazy world we live in._ He mused as he sat on a stump near the fire, watching everyone else offload the night's camping supplies. Tukson and Adam had volunteered to take first watch, and with Sienna tied up giving orders to her people, Arthur had nothing to do.

Curious about Summer now that she had come to mind, Arthur remembered that she had asked him not to delete the pictures of her family. When he'd first gotten the scroll, he hadn't had much idea on how to use it. Now that he was a little more seasoned with it, maybe he should see the faces of the family he had sworn to help along the way. Arthur retrieved the device from his satchel and pulled it open, the home screen showing numerous icons. One them looked like a handful of pictures, and Arthur tapped it. The icon clicked, and a whole gallery of pictures opened up. Underneath each collection of images, there were titles. Arthur pushed aside 'places' and 'Grimm' and settled on 'birthdays'. With another click, that which was most important to Summer was revealed. Dozens upon dozens of pictures opened up, and when Arthur tapped each individual one it opened to fit the screen.

A young girl with dark hair and silver eyes sat at a wooden table, an older but still quite young blonde girl sitting next to her. Arthur knew the younger one was Summer's daughter in an instant, if not for the matching eye and hair color, then for the little girl's over sized red hood she wore, very similar to Summer's white one. The blonde girl next to her wore her hair in pigtails, and had on a brown sweatshirt of some kind and brown shorts. They both were laughing and having fun, and in front of them on the table was a gigantic cookie, chocolate chip if Arthur was guessing. Written on the cookie in frosting were the words 'Happy Birthday, Ruby!' along with six candles. A blonde man in a brown vest and yellow shirt stood behind the girls, smirking at the camera, and Arthur assumed that it was her husband. The last person there was a haggard man with gray streaked black hair and red eyes, leaning forward with a satisfied smile of his own. He wore a long sleeved shirt, but the sleeves were rolled up and the shirt was untucked. He also wore a small cape, making Arthur wonder if it was some kind of fashion.

Summer's family. The people she had asked him to lie to, all to protect them from some greater threat. She hadn't expanded exactly on what that greater threat was, or how exactly he could help them. Maybe there was more to 'get the Relic to Ozpin' than he had first assumed? He hadn't really looked at the thing since his time in the desert, as much a lack of curiosity as it was that he'd had bigger things to worry about. Now though, after seeing everything else that Remnant had to offer? Maybe that Relic had more to it than it appeared.

Considering the possibilities, Arthur absently swiped his finger across the picture, this time showing young Ruby opening her presents. It was a different party this time, since she was even smaller. A tiny little stuffed dog was inside of a colorful red and black box, and Ruby was giggling madly as she held it up. She was the only one in the picture this time, and Arthur could only grin at the childish innocence on display. It wasn't something he'd experienced a lot of in his life, as a child or an adult. Jack had been a welcome breath of fresh air in an otherwise suffocating lifestyle, but Arthur's own brief tenure as a father had ended in tragedy.

So wrapped up was he in looking through the pictures from Summer's life, he never heard the soft footfalls of someone approaching. He did, however, hear the muffled curse when someone looked over his shoulder. Arthur turned his head and stood, and only barely avoided a large sword that came for his throat. Stumbling over the log he had been sitting on, Arthur cursed and dug for his revolver. When he drew it and aimed, however, he paused.

Standing over him, sword drawn and eyes blazing with drunken fury, was the dark haired man from the photographs. One of Summer's family members, and he was clearly very angry at Arthur.

_Don't tell them I'm still alive._ The full implication of what she had asked finally hit him, and Arthur struggled not to curse the woman that had given him a second chance at life. With her family hunting him down because of _her_ lie, it made it really difficult to speak well of Summer Rose at the moment.

"Where did you get that scroll?" The man snarled, and Arthur detected the faint scent of booze on the wind. Whoever this guy was to Summer, he liked his drink even more than Arthur did. The gunslinger scrambled to his feet, wondering how the man had snuck past the entire White Fang camp.

"A friend gave it to me. She saved my life." Arthur couldn't say more than that without admitting that Summer was still alive. The answer did little to mollify the man, and instead only seemed to enrage him further. He swiped his weird ornate sword across Arthur's front, forcing him again to backpedal into the stream itself. The splashing and angry conversation attracted attention finally, and Arthur could see people moving behind the strange man.

"That's a lie! Summer died years ago, so try again!" The man raged. Arthur grimaced as he cocked the hammer back on Death, keeping Life holstered as he considered his options. The guy was clearly very upset about the alleged death of Summer, and if Arthur blew the whistle on her he had no idea what would happen. She had asked him not to, obviously, but since he didn't know anything about the people after Summer, revealing her to her family had no guarantees either. But he also promised to protect her family if possible, and the White Fang were prepared to fight for him. Shit...

"Arthur!" Sienna's voice carried from the camp, and he could hear the clink of chains as she readied her weapon. The man turned his body to the side so he could watch his back, but he never truly took his eyes off of the gunslinger. Yeah, this guy had a grudge to settle.

"Get out of here!" Arthur barked, and he strafed toward the camp to keep any rounds he fired from striking friendlies. Summer's friend could take a few hits, assuming he was a Huntsman, but Arthur couldn't afford friendly fire at this point. Sienna and Tukson ran to him, and Adam stepped between the unknown swordsman and Arthur. The two gauged each other carefully, and judging by the fact that they didn't attack neither one was confident they could win. While the stalemate went on, the White Fang hustled about packing up camp.

"Arthur, who is this man?" Sienna demanded, her amber eyes smoldering in anger. Tukson seemed less angry and more concerned, watching Adam and the stranger circle each other warily.

"He's one of Summer's people. I guess he managed to track her scroll somehow. I'm sure I messed with it the wrong way." Arthur shook his head. "He's after me, and we can't afford to fight a Huntsman. Y'all gotta get out of here." Sienna balked at the idea, and Arthur could already sense an inconvenient argument brewing.

"Absolutely not! You are coming with us, and if he thinks he can beat all of us, he-" A scathing look from Arthur cut the raging tiger Faunus off mid sentence, but she still glowered at him.

"Listen. You owe it to your people to get to Menagerie and follow the plan. If you fail, the Faunus are gonna get a bad deal. You can't throw that away for one person." Arthur held up a hand as she tried to protest. "He's only after me, and if he was willing to stalk us through the forest for two days, he's good and he ain't willing to just give up. He's got a fight or an explanation coming, and I'm the only one who can give them to him."

"Why don't you just tell him, Arthur? It's hard to believe, but it's better than fighting a Huntsman when you didn't have Aura two weeks ago!" She hissed angrily. There was a rasp of metal as Adam drew his sword, and the stranger stepped back into something akin to a stance. He looked half drunk, but Arthur knew better. His balance was perfect, and his shoulders held a tension in them he couldn't fake away. Hopefully, Adam could see that the angry drunk persona was a ruse.

"I made a promise, Sienna. Just like when I told you that I'd get you to Menagerie, Summer asked me not to tell them. It's for their protection, though I don't know how." He physically grabbed her by the shoulders, his pistol pointing up in the air as he shook her gently. "Take Famine and get back to the White Fang. Once you're done there, then you can come find me."

Sienna bit her lip and looked away, clearly angry with him and the situation at hand. Still, he knew she couldn't fault his logic. The whole trip had been for her to take over the White Fang. If she was delayed or interrupted from returning, it could jeopardize their whole plan. The needs of the many outweighed the desires of the few. She brushed off his hands angrily, but she also stowed her chain.

"You're a stubborn fool, Arthur Morgan." She hissed angrily, and there was real heat behind her words. "If promises are that important to you, then promise me that you'll make it to Kuo Kuana."

"I promise." He said with a forced smile. Sienna glared at him for a few moments, searching his face with those burning eyes of hers. He didn't know what she was looking for, but she apparently found it. Turning with a frustrated growl, Sienna began barking orders.

"Everyone pack up! We are leaving now! Adam, withdraw and protect the trucks!" The young man twitched at the order, clearly annoyed with the interruption. Still, there was relief in his stance as he slowly backed away from the strange man. The Huntsman let him do so, his red eyes straying back to Arthur once Adam was far enough away to not be an immediate threat. He was focused on him now, and Arthur had to make sure the guy didn't get any funny ideas about hostages.

"Come on, boy! I don't tell stories for free!" Arthur yelled aggressively, sprinting across the stream and firing Death as he went. The man dodged the rounds and gritted his teeth, sweeping his sword around and giving chase. "You're gonna have to earn this one!"

In camp, Sienna mounted Famine quickly, tugging on the reins as the loyal animal struggled to follow his master into the woods. He protested and stomped, but in the end yielded to Sienna's instructions. The tiger Faunus watched her people run around in a directed frenzy, then cast one last look toward Arthur.

"Be careful, Morgan! You promised me!" She called angrily, and he stopped to look back despite how close the stranger was.

"Ride! And don't look back!" He hollered. And with that, he was in the trees and gone.

With Sienna and the Relic safely on their way to Menagerie, Arthur could focus his full attention on the Huntsman chasing him. The man was dedicated to Summer in some way, that went without saying, but the complicated request the woman herself had made put Arthur in a bind. Even if he only offered half truths, there was a chance the guy could figure it out. But if he just refused to answer, the Huntsman's imagination would tell a far worse tell than the truth.

He wasn't running as hard as he could, but he wasn't moving slowly either. If he kept the current pace he had, the Huntsman would have to put some effort into chasing him instead of doubling back and hurting the White Fang. Arthur knew that Huntsmen were usually honorable by Sienna and Tukson's standards, but the guy was seriously pissed and thought that he had killed Summer. That created enough anger for him to do something normally reprehensible.

"How do I keep getting into these situations?" Arthur complained as he ducked underneath a branch, and unwittingly ducked a sword swiped. The dull thunk of metal sinking into wood was his only warning, and Arthur turned to see the Huntsman pulling his blade free. If he had gone around the branch instead of ducking it, he'd have lost his head.

"You can't run forever." The man snarled, twirling his blade and holding it to the side. "Give up and tell me what you did to my squad leader." Yeah, not happening. Arthur cursed and aimed Death, the six shooter angled upward toward the branches above.

"I made a promise, pal. I can't do that." He fired twice, dropping two thick branches onto the man. The swordsman dove forward to avoid them, and ran straight into Arthur's Aura-infused boot in the process. The gunslinger backed off and retreated, heading deeper into the forest as opposed to attacking the Huntsman while he was down. He heard a frustrated growl behind him, and he knew that if he looked back, Arthur would see the Huntsman after him with even more fury. He had to find a clearing, somewhere that didn't have all this cover. If he was going to fight it out with an actual Huntsman, he'd need every advantage he could get, and the ample cover worked more in the other man's favor than it did his.

* * *

Sienna winced as she heard the gunshots, and the forest creaked with the sound of metal on wood and men cursing. Even with the trucks' engines running and Famine's hooves pounding the dirt, Sienna's ears picked up every gunshot. Arthur was leading the Huntsman away, but he was putting his life in danger in the process. The Fang had finished gathering camp, stowing only the essentials and leaving behind the rest. They were close to the coast, and a few pots and pans could be left behind if they could leave faster. Just like she had left Arthur behind...

That damnable man. He was so infuriating, she could just choke him. How dare he give her orders, as if she were some common grunt? To push her away and offer himself up like that, it made her blood boil. He had spent the last week working together with them, supporting the Fang and Adam and herself. Now, when the time came that they could help him for a change, what did he do? He told her to take care of herself first and charged into the woods! The next time she got her hands on him, she'd give him a thrashing to put him on recovery for weeks!

Adam hung onto the side mirror of the front truck, his feet on the railing as he kept an eye out for any new threats. Just because Arthur had sacrificed himself to distract one foe, it did not mean there couldn't be another waiting in the forest. He scanned the trees as they passed, alert and ready for any further contacts. He also watched Sienna as she rode the cowboy's horse, and the shifting emotions that danced across her face. She was normally reserved, especially when they were in the field. Arthur was adept at drawing out unusual reactions from her, it seemed.

It had been the right call, no matter how much she wanted to dispute it. If the Huntsman's quarrel was with Arthur alone, it made sense to send the rest of them ahead. Endangering the entire group for the sake of one person was foolish, and Arthur knew that. Still, Sienna looked split between getting back to Menagerie as fast as possible, and turning around and beating Arthur into a bloody pulp. The Huntsman as well, if he got in her way.

Still, Arthur's influence over Sienna was worrisome. In the times that Adam had spoken to the cowboy with the mysterious origins, he had found him to be a weary but honorable man. Adam had constantly been on the lookout for some trickery or deception, but he had never detected any ulterior motives. Still, people could change, and someone having so much sway in so little time over the future White Fang leader was disconcerting. He would have to pay special attention to the two in the future, should Arthur survive and return to Menagerie. If he didn't, well...he had been an honorable comrade. Adam didn't just hand out compliments, but Arthur had earned that at least.

Up ahead, the path forked in two separate directions. One led to the capital city of Mistral, while the other one headed to the coastal city of Shiroyama. It was the main naval hub for the southern portion of Anima, and the most common destination for those seeking passage to Menagerie. The truck slowed in anticipation for the turn, and that was when Adam saw it: movement in the trees, close to the path they were about to take.

"Stop!" He commanded, jumping down from the truck with a hand on his sword. The driver heard him and slowed immediately, though he couldn't stop instantly without damaging the cargo. Beside him, Sienna jerked hard on the reins, forcing Famine to come to a sliding halt. The horse whinnied in displeasure, stamping the ground with his front hooves and shaking froth from his mouth. Sienna looked around the trail, trying to see what Adam had seen.

"Show yourself!" She ordered harshly. "We know you are there!" She trusted Adam's judgment when it came to security, and sure enough, a man stepped out the trees from near the signpost. His head was bare and bald, exposing a wicked scar that ran from his right temple across his nose and down to the left side of his chin. He wore leather clothes and padded armor, and a nicked machete hung loosely in his right hand.

"Dangerous to come around these parts." He stated conversationally, as if he weren't dressed like a bandit and stopping them in the middle of the wilderness. "If you leave the trucks and any valuables behind, we may just let you pass." The self-satisfied smirk told how true his offer actually was. Adam frowned and pulled his sword a few inches free from its scabbard, but the rustle of chains halted him before he could charge.

The scarred bandit's eyes widened in surprise as Sienna's battle chain wrapped around his throat. The White Fang leader wrapped the chain around her forearm with a feral snarl and pulled, hauling the man off of his feet and toward her. He dropped his weapon as he flew, wrapping both hands around the chain in a futile attempt to free himself from her weapon. As such, he landed hard on his face directly in front of Famine, choking and gasping for air as Sienna refused to give him any slack.

With their comrade in peril, the rest of the bandits revealed themselves, charging out of the woods with a slew of battle cries. They wielded a variety of weapons, from pistols to hatchets to the occasional rifle. More than ten of them rushed the convoy, they they slowed when Sienna tightened her chain threateningly. Her captive's eyes bulged out of his head, the veins bulging out around them as his skin turned purple.  
Sienna had had enough of the constant abuse to her people. Samuel Winchester, the Huntsman, these bandits; all of them had targeted the White Fang and its allies. A simple supply run, and yet she had been assaulted by all the things she hoped to change in humanity. Greed, hatred, a selfish drive for wealth and power, all at the expense of the Faunus under her protection. Her patience had reached its limit with Arthur's stupid choice, and these highwaymen were about to learn how the White Fang approached their enemies from now on.

"These men stand between us and our home! Show them that the White Fang does not run from our enemies!" She roared as she pulled back on the reins and dug her heels into Famine's sides, prompting the horse to rear up above the strangled bandit. "KILL THEM ALL! LEAVE NOTHING BUT BLOODY STAINS IN OUR WAKE!" Adam drew his sword and rushed the incoming bandits, his blade flashing red. Tukson and Cain drew their pistols and exited their trucks, standing between the other raiders and the White Fang. Sienna's eyes flashed, and Famine's hooves came down with a savage crunch.

* * *

Arthur found his clearing, a shallow pond near a large rocky outcropping. He'd kept ahead of the Huntsman for the most part, though he'd been forced to put a few rounds into the man after some close calls. The Huntsman's Aura had taken the blows, but he was now more cautious. Arthur panted as he entered the clearing and turned to face the direction he'd come from, pushing more rounds into his revolver as he did so. The forest had long ago gone silent, his running fight with the man from Summer's past scaring away most of the wildlife. A few Beowulfs had tried to get in on the action, but they'd been nothing more than casualties and distractions between the two.

"Come on out, kid." Arthur hollered as he flicked the action closed on Death, drawing Life from its holster as well. Just like with the sea dragon, his rounds weren't sufficient to put the Huntsman down for good, and Arthur was kicking himself for not bringing his rifle or shotgun to the party. Still, they were with the Relic, and the last thing he wanted was to draw attention to the whole reason he was going to Vale.

"I ain't a kid, cowpoke." The raspy voice came from behind him, and the Huntsman was standing behind him, the heels of his shoes barely submerged in the shallow pool of water. How he had gotten behind Arthur, there was no telling.

"I really hate that name." Arthur muttered. "You don't have to do this. Summer asked me to help protect her family, and I can't let you get in my way. I have to get to Ozpin." He tried to reason with the man, but a snort cut down that dream before it even began to grow.

"Bullshit. Summer's been dead for years. You showing up now has nothing to do with her. Now, where did you get that scroll?" Dammit, how was he supposed to play this? If he fought, there was little question who would win. Sienna and Summer had both said that Huntsmen and Huntresses spent years training to fight and use their Aura. He'd had the stuff for all of two weeks, if that. His experience with the Van der Linde gang didn't really apply to people that didn't die the first time you shot them.

"I told you, she gave it to me after she saved my life. I can't say more than that." Arthur pleaded, internally begging the man to believe him. The last thing he wanted was to blow the whistle on Summer, but at the same time he couldn't fight her friends without either hurting them or himself.

"Why not? Summer was a mother and a team leader; there's no way she'd turn her back on family like that!" The man denied with conviction, pointing his sword directly toward Arthur. "Maybe you'll feel like telling the truth once I beat it out of ya." Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes as the Huntsman took up a stance, blade forward in one hand with his other held out to his side. Well, if that's the way he wanted it...

Arthur's vision washed gold as he focused on the man's sword, or the hand wrapped around it. His pistols came up and he fired four shots, each meant for a finger. The world returned to normal as the rounds struck, though only two of them found their targets. The Huntsman had moved between Arthur pulling the trigger and the bullets hitting home, though he still shook his hand and swore.

"Nice shot. Now try it again!" The man challenged, charging towards him with the sword in front of him. As broad as it was and as fast as the man could react, Arthur knew better than just throw lead and hope he landed a hit. Still, there was more than one way to skin a cat.

Arthur fired two shots toward the man's face, forcing him to bring the blade up and block. It stopped the rounds, but also hid Arthur from him for a moment. It was all the gunslinger needed to dump three more bullets into the man's knee and thigh. The Huntsman stumbled, cursing as Arthur stepped forward and slammed Life into the back of his head. He tumbled forward, but Life's action also broke open unexpectedly. Before Arthur could do anything about it, the remaining rounds in Life dumped out onto the ground, leaving him with only one bullet left in Death. The Huntsman rolled away before Arthur could capitalize on his stumble, rubbing the back of his head with a free hand. He eyed the rounds on the ground, and the incredulous look on Arthur's face as the gunslinger examined his faithful sidearm.

"That's some rough luck, cowpoke. You should take better care of your guns." He swept his sword in front of him, causing Arthur to back up as he struggled to reload. Arthur on the other hand was dumbfounded. He took almost religious care of Life and Death; never in the years he'd carried them had they failed him in such a way. It was impossible, and yet it had happened anyway.

The Huntsman didn't let him finish reloading, and instead pushed the advantage. With Life's action broken open, the only way Arthur could retaliate was the one round left in Death. The man slashed at Arthur with uncanny speed, forcing to retreat and focus his Aura in ways he hadn't had to before. Every blow he took was a hair's breadth away from being fatal, and he could feel his strength flagging with each hit. His Aura wasn't limitless, and until he got a spare moment he couldn't attack.

The Huntsman got greedy and stepped a little closer, grabbing his weapon with both hands and preparing to cut Arthur in half with a single horizontal strike. Before he could follow through with it, Arthur's eyes flashed gold once more. The Huntsman was started when Arthur's black pistol was shoved down into his thigh and fired, taking Aura with it and leaving a nasty bruise. It forced him to check his attack, and with both hands out to one side he couldn't stop Arthur from headbutting him in the nose. A loud crack filled the air as forehead met face, and it stunned the stranger long enough for Arthur to follow up with a knee to the face and a kick to his temple, sending the man into the pond.

The Huntsman rolled to his feet groggily, though he couldn't attack right away. There were three cowboys standing in front of him, and he was doing his best to figure out which was the real one. Arthur dumped his rounds into Life's cylinder quickly, and had Death reloaded as well by the time the man stood back up.

"Give up, friend. I don't aim to kill you, and killing me won't get you any answers. Why don't we just go our separate ways, seeing as how you won't listen to a goddamned word I say?" Arthur counseled, stepping back to give himself more room to react. The Huntsman spit into the water that surrounded him and stood up, dripping from his impromptu bath. Cold fury burned in his eyes, and he gripped his sword with renewed vigor.

"That's it! I'm done holding back. If I have to drag you back to Vale broken and bloody, I'll get answers out of you!" He made to step up and charge again, but the sound of gunshots and clashing metal in the distance attracted both combatants' attention. Arthur grimaced at the sound, aware all to well of what direction it was coming from. Was the convoy under attack? Who else was out there, besides this Huntsman and himself? Irritated beyond belief, Arthur turned back toward the man with an angry growl.

"Summer never taught you that. Distracting me while you had someone else attack my people! Where's your honor, boy?" He cocked the hammers on his pistols and raised them once more. The Huntsman's eyes widened as he brought his sword up to guard.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I came here alone. And you're the last person to lecture anyone about honor, grave robber!" He yelled back just as hotly. The two stared each other down, the sounds of distant combat weighing on Arthur. He had to finish this. The sooner he handled Summer's little teammate, the sooner he could help Sienna and the others.

"You came alone. I did not." A woman's voice echoed from the forest, causing Arthur to pause. He wasn't sure where it had come from, but the Huntsman he was fighting looked around wildly. He clearly recognized the voice, though Arthur was lost.

"Raven?! What are you doing here?" He demanded, and there was little warmth in his voice. No love lost there, whoever the mystery woman was. Arthur kept his eyes peeled, but his attention was divided between his opponent and the new arrival. As such, he didn't hear a thing until the voice came from right behind him.

"Hello, dear brother. Did you miss me?" Arthur whirled, guns raised, but was unable to stop the pommel of the sword from driving into his forehead. The strike was forceful, powerful, and broke through his Aura like a train through a wagon. Arthur slumped to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut, and only got a glimpse of his attacker as the light faded from his eyes. Red and black, a lot of messy, wild black hair, and crimson eyes behind a Grimm mask.

* * *

Summer was horribly, irrevocably bored with the situation already. The Sisika Penitentiary was defended only by its remote island location and a few riflemen in guard towers, and it had been child's play to knock them out and drag their bodies inside of the guard shacks. Of course, when you can jump up to the top of a tower with ease, things were a little different from what the architects had in mind. Sadie hadn't witnessed her make the jump at either of the two towers they had neutralized, so focused was she on spotting roving patrols. All the blonde knew was that Summer had cleared the towers impossibly quick, and she was searching for any sign of John Marston.

Since they had knocked out the snipers without the alarm being raised, most of the day was spent watching chain gangs go by as Sadie profiled the inmates. _At least Arthur isn't here._ Summer mused, lying down inside the guard tower next to the unconscious sniper she had surprised. _It's kinda hard to sneak past prison guards when you're coughing up a lung._ Mrs. Adler had proven capable enough, but her demeanor was abrasive at best. Despite the little bit of bonding they did on the boat, Sadie was still slow to trust. Summer had told her how she had met Arthur and that she had sent him to get medical help, but her reluctance to say more didn't earn her any favors with the widow. Summer had been as ambiguous as possible, but it still left Sadie thinking that she was either a mercy killer or a convincing liar.

"Still no sign of him." Sadie whispered, wiping her brow amid the humid heat of the day. Summer was less effected, what with being a Huntress and all, but even she had to say that the day was hot and sticky. Her Huntress attire made it a little easier to handle, but she was already craving a shower.

"You know, I could just walk up and ask for him." Summer said with a sigh. Sadie offered her an incredulous look, then shook her head and went back to people watching.

"Real funny. Now are you gonna lay around all day, or will you help me look for John?" Summer groaned and rolled over onto her stomach, her feet idly swaying back and forth.

"Considering we only have one pair of binoculars and I have no clue what he looks like, I'm not sure what I can do to help. You want me to scream his name at the top of my lungs? That might help." Suddenly, it was less of a mystery where Yang got her sarcasm. Summer hadn't been around to teach her daughter much in a while, but even when she had left she knew that the little blonde was learning to be snarky. The silver eyed woman couldn't help it, though; this was so boring!

"I don't understand it." Sadie threw her hands up and stalked back into the relatively cool shade of the guard tower. "I watching him work in the fields all day last time. Now, I ain't seen hide nor hair of him. What changed?" Summer stood up and took Sadie's offered binoculars, finally getting her first look at the Sisika Penitentiary proper. It was an old building, comprised of as much concrete as stone. High walls with rusted catwalks at the top, and at least three gates leading into the interior housing area. Armed guards walked the catwalks and watched from the three other guard towers that she could see. On the ground, they never moved in groups of less than three. For someone like Sadie, it would be nigh impossible to break a man out of this place. For a Huntress, however...

"Yeah, I'm done waiting. I promised Arthur that I would save his friend, and I'm not going to let some prison fight turn me into a liar." Summer tossed the binoculars back to Sadie. "You might want to go get the boat ready. We're going to be leaving quickly."

"The hell are you gonna do, girl? That sword ain't worth beans against snipers and shooters!" Sadie moved to block Summer from descending down the ladder and ruining the only plan they had to break John out. Imagine her surprise, however, when Summer physically picked her up as if she weighed no more than a sack of grain and moved her out of the way. For such a lithe and small young woman, miss Rose sure had some strength to her.

"We'll be fine." Summer reassured her. "I've got more up my sleeve than just a blade. I'll get John, you get the boat ready. We're probably going to be running hard." With Sadie safely out of the way, Summer dropped down the trapdoor that led to the ground, grabbing every fourth or fifth rung to slow her fall. Not that she needed to, but the last thing Sadie would need to see was Summer dropping forty feet with no problem. When she reached the ground, Summer dusted off her cloak and began a leisurely stroll toward the main facility. Behind her, she heard miss Adler swearing and cussing the whole way down the ladder.

_At least this will be fun._ She shrugged and kept her hand on her sword, idly stroking the mechanism in the guard. Qrow always had been jealous of her configuration. He had been working on a version of his own when she'd had to leave. Suave as he was, Qrow just didn't have Summer's gift for mecha-shift weapons and complex mechanics.

Just as she planned, a squad of four guards found her just before she reached the main complex. They predictably pointed their guns at her and began shouting, and she made no move to hold her hands up. One of them fired his weapon into the air, which attracted the attention of the guards on the catwalks as well. Good, she wanted as many witnesses as possible for this little show.

"Hello boys!" She called out, the smirk on her face making more than a few of them exchange looks of confusion. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. I heard you fellas found him for me." The men in front of her continued to back up, keeping their weapons on her as she showed no sign of slowing her pace. Finally, one of the sergeants barked an order, and they stopped ceding ground.

"Put your hands in the air, or we will open fire! This is your final warning!" A man yelled from behind the gate, his ornate hat matched only by his waxed mustache. Summer's smirk faded, but she knew full well that she had this in hand.

"Not gonna happen guys." She muttered, though the man approaching on her left was the only one capable of hearing her. He kept his pistol pointed at her, but in the end he didn't possess the reaction speed to touch her. Summer proved this by drawing up her right leg and driving her foot into his gut, sending him flying with an Aura infused kick. The guards were expecting her to draw a pistol and die in a hail of gunfire, and there was nothing in that expectation about the small woman sending a man forty feet into a wooden wagon with just a kick. The unexpected outcome gave them pause, and Summer took full advantage of it. She grasped the closest man's repeater and hauled him toward her, clothes lining him with her elbow and sending a kick into the third man's side. The fourth was too far to reach with a single strike, and he finally shook off the paralysis of fear and shock.

"Open fire!" He screamed, and tried to carry out his own order were it not for Summer's fist embedding itself up into his diaphragm. His lungs relieved themselves of air, leaving him gasping for breath on the ground as his pistol fell from his fingers. The men above, however, were now free to fire. Summer heard the audible clicks of hammers and triggers, and she pulled her sword free with Aura-infused speed.

When the hailstorm fell upon her, Summer was ready. She leaped back, forcing the incoming fire into a smaller cone, and batted the rounds away as best she could. Her Aura flared as she took a few rounds to the shoulder and the legs, glancing blows more than anything, but her concentration did not falter.

When the barrage ended, fifteen men stared, devastated that one woman could take so many rounds and still live. Summer flourished her blade and slowly ran it across the ground in front of her in a horizontal line. As she did so, a few of the bullets she had caught on the flat of her blade fell into place on the dry clay.

"Since that worked out so well the first time, are you going to bring me John Marston? Or do I have to come up there and teach you boys how to shoot?" Summer called, her earlier cheer and nonchalance gone in the favor of unwavering steel. The commander swallowed nervously, dropping two bullets that were meant for his revolver as her silver eyes bore into his. Summer held his gaze, and he could see the the determination in those mirrored depths. Against all that and what he'd just seen, could they stand up to such a monster?

Fifteen minutes later, a very confused and scarred man walked out of the Sisika Penitentiary. He blinked in the sunlight, holding his hand up to block the harsh rays from his eyes. His face matched Arthur's rather gruff description in his journal; the man looked like he had survived a wolf attack. When she walked forward to meet him, John Marston eyed her warily.

"Who are you?" He asked, unsure of what to do if he didn't like the answer. The guards had been shaking in their boots when it came to this woman, though all that John had heard was gunfire and yelling. The woman pointed her thumb behind her, toward the shore.

"A friend of Arthur Morgan, and that's all you need to know right now. Let's get out of here before they find their courage and shoot us in the back." John was more than happy to follow along with that plan. He took off at a motivated jog, keeping his eye out for cover just in case Summer's prediction came true. Five hundred yards later, not a shot was fired and Sadie was waiting for them with a rowboat. The two hopped into the boat alongside her, John grabbing the oars and rowing like his life depended on it. When they were a safe distance away, he slowed enough to get a good look at his savior, and the strange clothes she wore.

"You two want to tell me what's going on? What does Arthur have to do with this?" John asked. Sadie ignored him, her own incredulity taking precedence.

"How the hell did you get them to release him? I thought once the fighting started, you were dead." Summer just crossed her arms behind her head and leaned back, crossing her legs and getting comfortable for the trip back to the mainland.

"It's like I said. I asked them nicely." Back at Sisika, the Warden and Senior Guards all signed their resignation letters and agreed to never tell about the mystery woman that threw men like potatoes and blocked bullets out of the air.

* * *

**A/N:** Summer's a badass, and John Marston is free. More trouble looms on the horizon, and how will Arthur get out of this one? The hits just keep coming. As for the (UNOFFICIAL) ship name, Arthur's Semblance is Dead Eye, and Sienna is a Tiger. When I actually said it out loud, the song began playing in my head and hasn't stopped since. Someone kill me.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Arthur's in a bit of a pickle, and is about to be subject to good ol' fashioned Branwen family troubles. All things considered, Qrow's probably having a worse day than he is.

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Consciousness did not come all at once. At first, he felt himself being dragged along his back, and his hands were bound. Beyond that it was murky again, until he faintly overhead someone talking nearby.

"Can't believe we lost so many..."

"He took on the traitor..."

"...Fang are getting violent..."

Arthur couldn't remember the rest of the conversations, and when he finally did come to full consciousness, it wasn't in the best of places. It was dark out, and his head hadn't been covered. He could hear fires crackling, and people talking in the distance. When he opened his eyes, a throbbing pain pounded in his temples.

"Ah, my head..." He groused, trying to fight through the painful fog that caused his mind to drag. When he tried rubbing his head, however, his hand wouldn't move. Neither of them did, seeing as how they were bound behind his back. "What the hell?"

As Arthur looked around once more, things became clearer. He remembered his fight with the Huntsman that was so mad about Summer, then suddenly a woman had come out of nowhere and knocked him out cold. With one punch too, Aura and all. Whoever this lady was, he didn't think he could take her in a one on one fight. Now, to figure out how to get away.

A more detailed inventory told Arthur that his pistols and hunting knife were gone, a predictable outcome. His satchel was missing as well, though a little wriggling told him that they weren't as good at frisking as they should have been. He could still feel a few holdout knives in his boots and belt. Of course, getting to them was another matter entirely. From what he could tell, Arthur was lashed to a large tree, but the ropes going around the tree were wound between his back and the bark. That left his arms close to his hips, where he could easily get to his hidden blades if he wiggled enough.

If Arthur had been the one to tie someone up, he'd have taken each arm and tied them outward like a crucifixion, not this kindergarten bullshit. Whoever had tied him up either thought he wasn't good at escaping or severely underestimated him. Arthur worked his wrists back and forth, steadily working the ropes loose. Who knew how much time he had, so he did his work as quickly and quietly as possible.

Another groggy groan to his right caused Arthur to pause, and to his surprise the Huntsman he had fought earlier was tied up in a similar fashion. The man was much worse for wear, however. Whereas Arthur only had a pounding headache, the man he had been fighting earlier sported a black eye, a split lip, and at least three bruises across his cheeks, chin, and neck. If Arthur's treatment was how they did business normally, then this guy was personal.

The groan attracted someone else's attention as well. The shifting of grass alerted Arthur that they were not alone, and when he looked up he saw the woman that had knocked him out. Instead of the ornate Grimm mask she had worn before, however, her face was bare. She had the face of a warrior: trim, with little to no fat that he could see. Her jaw was strong, and the faintest hints of stress lines could be seen on either side of her nose. The crimson eyes examining him curiously hadn't been a figment of his imagination earlier, and now he could actually see the family resemblance between the woman before him and his fellow prisoner.

_Hello, dear brother. Did you miss me?_ It had been the last thing he'd heard before she had knocked him unconscious. Since Arthur didn't share characteristics or (he assumed) heritage with her, he had to assume she was speaking to the Huntsman. But right now, she only had eyes for Arthur. And yet, she remained silent.

"If you take a picture, it might last longer." He offered sarcastically. The woman did not react right away, but a smirk slowly spread across her face as she found whatever it was she had been looking for.

"I think my memory will do just fine. It's rare to find someone who can match Qrow on even terms these days. Besides myself anyway." He flicked her eyes dismissively toward the other man tied to a tree stump, and Arthur had to physically stop himself from rolling his eyes. The guy had said her name was Raven, and now his was Qrow? How unoriginal was their mother when she came up with bird names for her children? Then again, with names like Tukson, Sienna, and Summer running around, making Arthur was the weird one. Definitely a thought for later.

"What can I say? Momma didn't raise no quitter." Arthur rolled his shoulders, trying to disguise his work on the ropes in the action. If Raven doubted him, she didn't show it. She also didn't step any closer, maintaining her distance from him.

"I see. And just what is your name, cowboy? I like to keep track of capable people in this world." Raven knelt down to his level, and Arthur couldn't help but smirk.

"Leviticus Cornwall." He replied dryly. Raven arched a brow, and Arthur immediately knew that he had said the wrong thing.

"Lying so soon? That's not how you make friends. I was under the impression that your name was Arthur Morgan." To explain her sudden insight, she held up Summer's scroll. On the screen, the video he had watched upon arriving in Vacuo was paused, Summer's face clear for all to see.

"Ah well. Worth a shot." Arthur didn't apologize, knowing that she wouldn't accept it. At this point, he was at her mercy, or at least until he got the ropes loose. Even then, Arthur knew he'd have to be cautious with this one.

"Quite. I don't blame you for making the effort, but we're past lies and half truths right now. You're lucky I have some unfinished business with my worthless brother, otherwise I'd be asking you all kinds of questions." Raven tossed the scroll down at Arthur's feet, just outside of his reach if his arms were unbound. "Be a dear and sit tight while I get my tent ready. For a bandit leader, I seem to never have visitors." She fluttered her fingers toward him in dismissal, then turned and leisurely walked away. Arthur watched her leave, unsure if it was a trap or not, but in the end he could only worry about what he could change and to hell with what he couldn't.

A minute and a half passed as Arthur wrenched his wrists this way and that, finally flexing enough free space to get a hand loose from his bindings. Once that was done, he slowly reached down and dug the throwing knife from his belt. The blades were duller than most knifes, sharpened more at the point than the sides, but it still carried enough of an edge to start parting rope strands. Even though he was fairly sure that they were alone, Arthur did his best to be inconspicuous in his escape, eyes constantly roaming for any interruptions or prying eyes. He saw a few bandits in leather clothes walk by from time to time, but none of them ever approached the two prisoners.

What was the goal here? If Raven wanted to ransom him to the White Fang, or both of them to Vale, she wasn't exactly going about it the best way. If he had to ask anything, it would be why he was still alive in the first place. Clearly, Raven and Qrow had some muddy history, but he had no idea how Summer played into it. She was Qrow's team leader once, if his angry outbursts were to be believed. How that worked with Raven, he had no clue.

Had the White Fang made it out? The fact that he was in a bandit camp so soon after sending them away worried Arthur, but he didn't see any indicators that his friends had been taken as he had. None of the gear he could see reminded him of Sienna's stuff, and the way Adam held onto his sword there weren't enough bodies to suggest he had been taken. So if they weren't taken, then staying behind did ensure that they made it out. That was a relief at least.

The knife finally bit deep enough for Arthur to break free of the rope, and he quietly brought his hands forward, rubbing his wrists to get the circulation flowing once more. Now that he was free, Arthur grabbed the scroll in front of him and stuck it in his vest pocket. Over to the side, Qrow didn't so much look his way as he did let his head fall in Arthur's general direction.

"I always said she couldn't teach knots." Qrow growled and spit on the ground. He really looked worse for wear. "Your stuff's in her tent. I saw her looking over that scroll you stole from a dead woman. GO steal it again, I'll watch her kick your ass."

Were Arthur not in the middle of a bandit camp and trying to not be seen, he'd have told Qrow exactly what he thought of the man. Instead, the gunslinger just gave him a look and started creeping out from where they had been held. Now that he was a little bit higher, Arthur could get a better look at the raider's camp. The whole place was about as large as the camp back at Horseshoe Overlook, though the high wooden walls made it difficult to tell. Three large tents along the perimeter of the camp made decent housing, though one was of much better quality than the rest. A deep crimson banner hung over the similarly colored cloth, and from what he could see from the outside, there were three portions to the tent. For some reason, he could hear rushing water coming from the opposite side of the camp.

Sending one last look at the captured Huntsman, Arthur slowly edged along the wall, keeping clear of the fires that were all over camp. To Arthur's surprise, there were only about eight or nine raiders wandering the camp. He saw a few chopping wood, a couple of others standing guard at the break in the wall, and the rest were around a big campfire drinking and talking loudly. None of them had been posted to watching the prisoners, another clumsy screw up. Did Raven _want_ them to escape?

Arthur made it to the big tent, pulling his knife once again and slowly parting the wall on the side closest to the barricade. The knife wasn't silent, but thankfully the raucous laughter and hollering from the campfire drowned out the noise. He made a vertical cut roughly three feet long, then cut another three feet onto to one side. As one triangle of cloth fell away, Arthur smoothly stepped inside. Within the tent, the sounds from outside were more muffled. A few lanterns sat inside, providing light against the darkness that surrounded the camp. In the section where Arthur had cut through, spare clothes hung over wooden buckets, drying after a recent cleaning. For a bandit leader, Raven certainly liked to do things on her own.

Rustling attracted Arthur's attention, and he turned to the thin veil that separated the sections of the tent. On the other side, silhouetted against the veil, the woman he could only presume to be Raven walked from one side of her tent to the other. Judging by her shadow, she was barefoot, though the thick mane of hair made it difficult to see further than that. Arthur's cheeks warmed at the thought of walking in on a woman, no matter her profession, in her unmentionables. Yeah, he'd read that book; the cowboy sneaking into the raider leader's tent for a hot night of passion. Whoever had written that novel needed to get captured by some _actual_ outlaws a time or two. That stuff just didn't happen.

"Are you going to sit there all night, or do I have to come get you?" Arthur was snapped out of his thoughts by the coy challenge, and when no one answered he realized that she was talking to him. Throwing caution to the wind, Arthur swept the curtain back and hefted his throwing knife, ready to use whatever he needed to get out of there. When he stepped into the next room, it was to find Raven lounging on a large cushion, her blade sheathed and lying across her lap. Thankfully, they only things missing from what she had been wearing earlier were her boots. The woman still looked ready to fight, footwear lacking or not.

"Uh, this is...strange." Arthur admitted, suddenly feeling foolish for brandishing a throwing knife like it was a dagger. This was the woman that had knocking him out with one hit. Somehow, he doubted that the fight would be much different just because he could stab her toes.

"I'm sure it seems that way." Raven smirked, then gestured toward the smaller cushion across from her. Surprised that he wasn't getting the fight he had been expecting, Arthur walked further into the room, but he didn't take the chair.

"I'll stand, thanks. Been sitting down enough since I was tied to a tree." Arthur gestured towards her, stowing his knife but keeping it within reach. "Why you being so calm around me?"

"Oh please." Raven tossed her head and rolled her eyes in one motion. "Despite the fact that I caught you off guard, you weren't exactly difficult for me to subdue. If you want to try your luck then by all means, feel free to attack me. I'll pass on you belongings to the Lady Khan." She stated matter-of-factly, as if she were discussing the weather. The more Arthur looked at her, the more he realized that his earlier assumptions were wrong. Raven wasn't relaxed, but rather she was waiting. He had first interpreted her calm demeanor as relaxation, a languishing cat, when really she was more akin to a coiled snake.

"I think I'll pass. Not many people I know can put me down like that." Arthur kept his distance and cocked a brow. "What I still don't understand is why you are letting me walk around free when I was tied up a minute ago." Raven nodded slowly and drew a small clay cup from beside her. She took a slow, languid sip from it, closing her eyes in a false gesture of apathy. He knew she was paying attention, she just wanted it to look like she wasn't.

"I wasn't the one that tied you up." At Arthur's confused look, she chuckled. "Let me explain. Even though I do not outright hate my brother, traitor though he is, I still ordered his capture. After I handled some past grievances between the two of us, anyway. And even though Summer clearly respects you, I have no responsibility to her or you to stop your execution. No, you are out and free right now to teach a lesson."

"And what would that be?" Arthur wasn't in a learning mood, and any lessons she tried to 'teach' him were gonna get thrown back into her face, bandit leader be damned.

"The strong survive, the weak perish." Oh yeah, because that explained absolutely nothing. "The man who led the charge against your White Fang friends, Roland Fist, was planning a coup against me. Now thankfully, by the time I learned of this your friend the Khan had already turned his head into hamburger meat." There was something disconcerting about a leader speaking about the death of one of her own, even a traitor, so boredly. It reminded him of Colm O'Driscoll.

"I'm guessing that's why your camp looks pretty empty." She nodded at his observation. Christ, how many had Sienna killed? If Arthur had been the one to build this camp, he'd have done it with twenty or thirty people in mind. When he'd been sneaking into her tent, he'd seen ten or twelve, max.

"Those loyal to him followed him to the grave. However, the presence of a traitor in my tribe has irked me in many ways. Not only that, I allowed you to be secured so poorly because it was how my men know to tie people up. They are used to civilians and travelers, not Huntsmen and the like." She gestured toward Arthur. "You stand before me as testament that they need to learn vigilance and efficiency. I can bark at them all day, but true failure teaches in ways I could never achieve." So, she wasn't correcting their mistakes so that the gang could fail spectacularly? That seemed harsh, but Arthur hadn't made it for so long under Dutch without learning some harsh lessons.

"Aren't you worried I'll escape and call the law on you? What's stopping me from running to the nearest town and blowing the whistle?" Not that Arthur was going to; hell, if she was letting him go this easily, he was content to live and let live.

"By the time you reach civilization, we will have moved. I know I can defeat you, and I did defeat Qrow. At this point, anyone who comes out of your escape will be stronger for it. They will understand that weakness cannot exist within the tribe."

"You said that Summer trusts me...like she's still alive." Raven nodded with another satisfied smirk. "How'd you know?" She held up a scroll of her own, and Arthur could see the video Summer had recorded for him. How in the hell did she have it when it was on his device?

"I downloaded your little instruction videos while you were unconscious." She explained. "The time stamp on the earliest one was two weeks ago. Given that until now, I thought she had been dead for five years, this is something of a surprise. I understand why she did it though; there are people and monsters seeking her that even I cannot defeat yet."

"Which is why you want your people to be a strong as possible, and you're letting us go to teach them a thing or two about being lazy." Arthur had to admit, this woman was all sorts of messed up. Still, she was right in one respect: whether he escaped or not depended on her good will.

"No, I'm not letting you go. I'm just not stopping you. It is still up to you to escape on your own. If they raise the alarm, I will be forced to engage. Anything else would be seen as weakness." Another long, slow drink. "Although if you cannot get past them in this state, you deserve the end you meet."

"Uh huh. And what about your brother?" Not that Arthur cared, but Summer apparently did. If she found out he left the man in the middle of a bandit camp, Arthur was certain he'd never hear the end of it.

"Take him, or don't. It matters not to me. He turned his back on the tribe years ago, and I can only encourage punishment against such behavior. Then again, he is strong. He might last a while." That she could be so casual about her brother's demise cemented her as a horrible person in Arthur's eyes. Still, he'd take what he could get. Speaking of what he could get...

"You haven't seen my things lying around, have you? I kinda need them. Lot of Grimm between here and Menagerie." The belt was flying through the air almost before he could catch it, and he strapped it on with a relieved sigh. The bitch was crazy if she thought she was getting a 'thank you', though. His satchel followed soon after, and Arthur felt whole once more. Trapped in the belly of the beast, maybe, but whole.

"Alright then. I guess I'll be seeing ya. Or hopefully not." Arthur dismissed, slowly backing out. He drew Death from his holster and checked the cylinder, and automatically began pushing rounds into it when he found it empty. When he looked back up Raven was standing, her sheath in her main hand. She held it out from her body, a sign that she wasn't going to use it. But he'd drawn his weapon first.

"Good luck, cowboy. Maybe we'll meet again someday. After that tiger of yours gets tired of you." She winked, then stepped around the cushion and into the room opposite of him. As soon as the curtain closed, Arthur was moving.

Considering that everyone was out in front of the main tent's entrance, he couldn't count on luck to sneak past them in the open. Instead, he went back out the same hole he'd carved to begin with, and slowly worked his back to the two stumps where he and Qrow had been tied. To his surprise, Qrow was still there, his head hanging low and unmoving. His chest still moved with his breathing so he wasn't dead, merely defeated. What a big baby. Somehow, he could see why Raven enjoyed messing with him so much if his reactions were all so dramatic.

Arthur looked around for the sentries he'd seen, the only ones not drinking and shouting and therefore the biggest threats. If Raven was good to her word, then they'd be gone before anyone was the wiser, leaving her to clean up. But Arthur knew better than to trust women like her. Qrow didn't look up until he felt Arthur cutting his bonds, and only then did he speak.

"What are you doing? You should have left when you had the chance." He coughed out, wincing as Arthur's insistent sawing disturbed whatever injuries he had taken earlier.

"Yeah, and that'd make that sister of yours real happy. Having met her, I'd rather piss her off whenever I can, so let's go." Qrow grunted as Arthur threw one of his arms over a shoulder, and together the two staggered into the shadows. Moving quietly was a lot more difficult with someone else's weight on you, but thankful the whole Aura thing canceled out the heavy part of it. He'd only had it for less than a month, but Arthur was already wondering how he'd managed for so long without it. It would have definitely made a few grizzly bear encounters easier.

The tents the rest of the Branwen tribe used were inferior in quality to Raven's, and unfortunately that meant they used thinner materials. Arthur and Qrow were obscured when they passed behind them, but their shadows could still be seen on the cheap white canvas. Arthur compensated by moving slowly, but it was made difficult by the injured man he was carrying.

Just when they were about to reach the camp entrance, a startled cry was heard from back where they had come. It interrupted the drinking party at the camp, and also unfortunately made the guards turn around to face inside the camp. When they turned to look on the interior, they found Arthur and Qrow caught out like fools. _Oh brother._

"The prisoners have escaped!" The guard closer to them shouted, and raised his rifle to fire. His partner did the same, and Arthur activated his Dead Eye without a second thought. He drew Death and aimed, not at their chests, but rather at the hands that held their rifles. If they had Aura, his rounds wouldn't kill them or stop them from firing. If they didn't, he'd be killing the men that belonged to the woman that was letting them go, only not really letting them go. It was a barrel of snakes no matter how Arthur looked at it, so he played it safe and shot the men in their hands. Blood spewed from their wounds as four shots rang out, and the guards screamed in pain. Their weapons hit the ground as they held their useless, wounded limbs, allowing Arthur to skirt around them and try for the exit.

Now that he was beyond the raised walls, Arthur realized why he had heard rushing water earlier. The camp sat on the edge of a plateau, where a river from further up the mountain flowed down into a large lake over sixty feet below. A path led from the entrance to the camp down into the valley below, but it was a poor choice considering that they were now being pursued. Even as he tried to figure out an exit strategy, Arthur could hear pounding feet behind them.

Further down the path, more raiders appeared. Arthur cursed as a few rounds whizzed overhead, and he pulled Qrow toward the waterfall on instinct. The shouting bandits urged him on, pushing Aura into his legs and allowing him to take greater strides. Still, the water was moving too fast for him to try crossing with Qrow on his shoulder, and he hadn't dragged the man out this far to abandon him now.

"I hope you've got a plan, cowboy." Qrow muttered unhelpfully. "They're getting closer." Arthur looked around wildly, and was further disappointed when he saw Raven stroll casually out from behind her tribe, wearing her full battle gear and mask. Somehow, Arthur knew that she wore a smirk on that damned face of hers. Whether he escaped or not, she'd gotten what she wanted. What a total bitch.

"Yeah, I got a plan. And it's a good one too." He'd survived a fall like this with Dutch running from the Army. If they had Aura, surely they could do the same here? It wasn't like they had much choice, considering the witch herself was coming for them. Qrow noticed the furtive glances Arthur was giving the cliff's edge, and he finally started sounding like he was aware of the situation.

"I do _not_ like this plan." The Huntsman shook his head vigorously, and for just a split second, Arthur pitied the man. It didn't stop him from pushing both of them toward the edge, raiders hot on their heels. Arthur wasn't exactly a fan of cliff diving either, but the band of raiders behind them didn't leave him with a lot of options. Especially if Raven stepped in like she'd said she would.

"It's the only one we got, son. Now I hope you can fly!" With that Arthur jumped, taking Qrow with him. The gut wrenching feeling of open air gripped him, and he had to hold onto his hat to keep it from flying off. Arthur angled himself downward so that his feet would break his fall, then looked around for his partner in crime. They had jumped somewhat close to the falls themselves, and he couldn't see where the man had gone. He distantly heard a flutter of wings, but it couldn't have been related to Qrow. Could it?

"Son of a BIIIIIIIIITCH!" Arthur howled as the water rushed up to meet him. He flooded his legs with Aura like he had on the boat, and this time he succeeded in landing according to plan. The lake was more a pond than anything, but years of water driving down had made it deep enough for him to survive the plunge. Water flooded his ears as he sank ten, then fifteen feet down into the cold water. Arthur worked his arms like mad, struggling upward in spite of all the gear he wore. When he broke the surface, it was with a huge and grateful gasp of air. Two jumps out of two, his record was still perfect. Arthur swam toward the edge of the pond quickly, and only when he could stand chest above the water did he look around for Qrow and any bandits that might have followed. His shirt and pants clung to him like a second skin, though his vest and boots were resistant to the water's touch.

No threat met his eyes. The froth from the waterfall made it difficult to tell, but Arthur couldn't see any evidence that Qrow had landed in the water. He'd been too preoccupied with surviving to look upon landing, but he hadn't heard or seen anything immediately after landing either. No out of place ripples, no dark shapes beneath the water. He searched for any sign that the man had met a bad end via gravity, and Arthur's mind was already racing with how he would explain this to Summer if the man was dead. _I know you asked me to take care of your friends and family, but Qrow was being a jackass so I threw him off a cliff. My bad._ Yeah, that would fly about as well as he did.

Arthur's searching was cut off as more gunshots rang out from the plateau above, and he had to move with a purpose to avoid the lead that rained down from on high. He looked for Qrow as he went, but the volume of fire coming down forced him to hide behind every boulder and thick tree he could find. A particularly large caliber round punched through the tree Arthur had just taken cover behind, and he was forced to make a heavy choice. Maybe Qrow's Semblance gave him some weird ability to bounce off of hard surfaces, or maybe he really could fly and was just being a little baby about jumping? Either way, Arthur could only stop so many bullets before one stopped him, and he wasn't hanging around to find out which one would do it.

"I hope he made it." Arthur grunted, then gritted his teeth and ran. Through the trees and down through the valley as if the devil himself was after him. He ran and ran and ran, until the gunshots and the rushing water were just a distant cacophony that he'd rather not deal with. The river continued downward at a gentle slope, and the valley he found himself in was the same temperate forest Mistral had everywhere else. Arthur picked south as best he could and made a break for it as fast as his feet could carry him. He ran until his chest burned, and his face was flush from exhaustion. Even then, Arthur didn't stop running until he found a small cave further south, and he slid into on his knees before turning and hiding against the wall. The cave wasn't very deep, and his arrival hadn't seemed to have pissed anything off inside.

The gunslinger panted and fought to catch his breath, though he kept his eyes open and his ears sharp as he waited for any sign of pursuit. He remained there for many minutes, catching his breath and on the lookout for any sign of the Branwen tribe. Silence greeted him, and it was interrupted not by Arthur or a bandit, but by a soft chime coming from his vest. He dug out Summer's scroll, and a small icon of an envelope had appeared. Tapping it, a message popped up on the screen.

_Thanks for the save. You still owe me an explanation, though. I'll be in touch. Qrow._

Well, at least he knew the bastard was still alive. And as much of a jackass as he had been when Arthur met him. It was one less thing he had to tell Summer when he eventually gave her scroll back and told her she could have this weird life. Still, Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that he'd set something in motion with the Branwen twins. But if he could get messages from Qrow, he could probably call out as well. He cleared Qrow's message and tapped on Sienna's name, seeing how she was the only on in the White Fang to give him their contact number. Adam had just stared at him when he'd asked.

The scroll rang for all of two seconds, and when the screen changed from an image of Sienna's face to the real deal, Arthur knew he was in trouble. She looked _furious._

"Where are you?" She demanded, and Arthur looked around the forest a little before he realized that A: he'd never been to this continent before this week and therefore didn't recognize any landmarks and B: he had no way of figuring them out according to Sienna's location because he did not know where she was, either.

"Uh, in a valley somewhere. Just got out of a bandit camp. Where are you?" Her eyes narrowed into slits when he said 'bandit camp', and that just confirmed it.

"You were _captured_? How did you escape? Where did- you know, nevermind. Can you send me your location?" Yeah, about that. There were plenty of icons available under call options, but Arthur hadn't messed with the scroll enough to know what the little symbols mean. One icon made Sienna's face go away, another didn't do anything. He tapped a third one, and he saw her talking but couldn't hear anything. He pressed it again.

"-tell, you're a few miles north of Shiroyama. Just head south, and you should be able to charter a ship to Menagerie." She must have been able to tell on her end. Why did she ask him to do something he barely understood when she could have done it herself? Women.

"Alright. Well where the hell are you?" He asked. "I figured you'd be at the harbor for at least long enough to pick up a gunslinger." Seriously, they'd gotten aboard a ship that quickly? How long had Raven knocked him out for?

"As soon as Ghira heard that we had fought the Branwen tribe, he ordered everyone aboard the nearest ship. I couldn't overrule him without putting my position in jeopardy. You've been gone for over thirty six hours, Arthur! Most of the team thought you were dead! What happened?" She didn't say whether or not she thought he had died, but given how upset she was, it was implied. _Heh. She probably cussed Adam like a dog, too._

"Look, it's a long story. I'm headed south for the harbor. If I can't get to you, I'll call you back. Don't become the Supreme Leader until I get there, you hear me?" Sienna rolled her eyes at him.

"Not so loud. I can't even begin the negotiations until the rest of the construction is complete. It'll be at least a few weeks, maybe more." A few weeks? Damn, they built shit fast around here. Arthur heard someone else say something off to the side, and Sienna's ears twitched as she looked away for a moment. "I'm sorry, Arthur, but I have to go. Be safe out there, and watch out for Grimm. I'll call you back soon." She didn't give him a chance to reply, as the call disconnected immediately after that.

"Well, that was a short talk." He flipped through the scroll's other features and found a map, once more exposing an enlarged view of Anima. There was a small white circle that showed his location, and a few inches down and slightly to the right, there was a small icon of a ship with the name Shiroyama next to it. Kind of an Eastern name when he thought about it, but nothing Remnant made sense to him. Hell, _Remnant_ didn't make sense to him. But whether it made sense or not, he still had a job to do.

Arthur put the device away and spent a few more moments catching his breath, trying to make sense of things. Raven had not only approved of his escape, though she said that she didn't, but she also used him and her brother as an excuse to come down harder on her own people. Had it been Dutch, he'd have taken the weaker members of the gang to the side and spoken to them, not willingly released prisoners for the sake of a lesson. It was reckless and showed complete disregard for her own people. The strong survive, the weak perish? What kind of psychopath treated their people as expendable like that?

The thoughts pushed his opinion of Raven Branwen further and further toward that of Colm O'Driscoll, and he hoped beyond hope he never saw her again. Still, he wasn't helping the White Fang or Summer any by sitting around in some cave. According to the map, Shiroyama was south east of where he was at. Casting one last look back toward the Branwen tribe's camp, Arthur set out toward the coast.

Alone.

* * *

Sienna hung up with Arthur and sighed heavily, letting her head fall into the support beam she was standing next to. The past day had been stressful, especially with Arthur missing. Sienna had never uttered a cross word to Ghira's face before yesterday, but the debacle with the Branwen tribe had brought out her cranky side. She'd killed four of them, including the leader of the raiding party, but unfortunately she had not gotten all of them. No, the rest had gone to Adam. The teen had hit his stride, slicing through bandits as if they were no more than Grimm. She was proud that he had not been hurt or killed, and even more so when the rest of the White Fang escaped with little the worse for wear. But what she was not thrilled with was the way he had taken killing so easily.

Maybe it had been the Grimm he'd fought before, and somehow killing men after his head had less effect. Maybe it was his distaste for humans in general, and presenting him with the worst of the worst had made it easy for him to see them as less than people. Whatever the reason, Adam had slain six men with no clear weight on his conscience. It was something to be watched, lest his newfound lack of guilt coincide with his hatred for humans. That was a monster she wanted no part in creating. Humans deserved retribution, there was no denying that, but Sienna preferred to target the ones that were actually responsible for making things worse for the Faunus. The Schnee patriarch, Samuel Winchester, these were people actually guilty of crimes against their people.

Targeting humans just for being humans was the same as targeting Faunus just for being Faunus.

Still, she had a few years yet to steer him down the path to true freedom fighting. That was not the immediate problem. No, the true dragon before her was that Ghira was not interested in stepping down. She hadn't asked him directly, of course; it was far too early for that. But small, innocent comments and questions to the current leader of the White Fang had yielded plans for the future and stout opposition to an early retirement. It was an abrupt change to the weary commander she had spoken to before the supply mission. What had changed?

The tiger Faunus sighed again, and slowly put her scroll away. She'd call Arthur back in a few more hours, if only to check up on him and berate him once more for his foolishness. She exited her cabin, much nicer than the one she and Arthur had drunk themselves silly in, and walked down the hall toward the ladder to the upper deck. Unlike the freighter they had used moving from Vacuo's shores to Anima, this was an actual ferry designed for short range transport. It was a much nicer passenger ship, with enough room in the hold for their supplies. The trucks had stayed behind, Ghira electing to sell them as opposed to transporting them. Sienna had made sure that the White Fang insignia was removed from them prior to the sale.

When she climbed up to the main deck, she found Ghira and a few other lieutenants standing near the railing, talking among themselves. Ghira was a large man, standing seven feet in height and broad in the chest and shoulders. He wore a blue open vest that exposed much of his muscular chest, and gray pants that ended in black steel toed boots. A small silver chain ran across his chest from the lapels on his vest, and a fur cloak ran around his shoulders and stopped in the middle of his back. His long black hair fell seamlessly into a full black beard, and his yellow eyes were ever watchful even as he seemed to share a good laugh.

This was the man she planned to usurp. Peacefully, of course, but nonetheless Sienna was pitting her plans for the future against his own and hoping to come out on top. It felt dirty to fight against him, and the way he had raised the White Fang like it was his own family. He had encouraged its members to branch out, learn new things, and do their best to passively change the minds of the masses. To plot for his seat felt like treason against a man that legitimately wanted the best for her people. But Sienna had to take over. If she didn't the current pace of progress would see their cause snuffed out by time and the entropy of public image. They needed some decisive victories fast, or public images like Jacques Schnee would sweep the White Fang under the rug and reduce all their hard work into nothing.

"Sienna, come join us!" Ghira invited boisterously, and the tiger Faunus realized she had been caught staring. She cleared her throat and walked up to the group, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity. These men were not friends, but rather colleagues in the fight for equality. To Arthur it wouldn't have made a difference, but Sienna was well aware that today's friend could be tomorrow's foe. They were two brothers, an old pair of veterans from the Faunus Rights Revolution. Dark haired brothers with yellow eyes named Romulus and Remus.

"Leader Belladonna. Gentlemen." Sienna greeted, instantly letting the others know how she saw them. Ghira did not react, but the other two men frowned at her address.

"I was just telling these men what a harrowing venture you had just come from." Ghira explained. "Do tell me about this mysterious human that has taken up with our cause?" He was asking about Arthur? That was suspicious in itself. Only the people from their expedition had known about him, and Blake Belladonna was not around for Adam to bitch to. Tukson had fewer friends in the White Fang than Adam did, and Felicia was still down in the medical room recovering from the bandit attack. Cain was an option, but she'd have to corner him later.

"Ah, yes. Our cowboy from the desert." Sienna tried to sound disinterested, but it was a test to see how much Ghira had heard. "He defended the convoy on multiple occasions, but unfortunately he went missing during the raid." Ghira frowned at the news, though whether it was because she was being guarded or the news itself was anyone's guess. Ghira's size did more than just allow him to loom over you; it provided a stoicism that made him hard to read at times.

"I hear that he was quite the progressive. It is a shame that he did not make the ship. I would like to meet him, if possible. Have you heard from him since the Branwen tribe attacked?" Was he testing her to see how close she had been with Arthur, or was it genuine worry and nothing else? _I've spent too much time reading into politics and intrigue._ Sienna rebuked herself. Ghira was a good person, and anyone willing to risk their health and safety for the White Fang would be considered a friend by the huge Faunus.

"Mr. Morgan called me a few moments ago and said that he was heading to Shiroyama. If nothing else comes up, he should make it to Menagerie in the next day or so." Ghira seemed honestly pleased at that, but his two colleagues were less than thrilled. Remus shot his older brother Romulus a look, and it was clear that the two would have words when they were in less influential company.

"That is good to hear. Honest friends are few and far between, and it would not do for a true ally of the White Fang to be left alone in the wild. I'm sure you will offer any help as needed." Sienna nodded and smiled politely, but Ghira must have noticed the level stare she was giving the brothers.

"Eh, excuse me gentlemen, but I must speak with my lieutenant about something. Keep me informed if anything occurs." He inclined his head in a polite bow, which the two brothers mirrored.

"As you command, Leader Belladonna." Romulus said respectfully, though he cut his eyes Sienna's way as he did so. Ghira didn't notice it, but Sienna narrowed her eyes at the two wolf Faunus. Whether she took Ghira's place as Supreme Leader or not, those two would need to be watched carefully. Like the Albain brothers, Romulus and Remus Lupin carried significant weight within the White Fang. If not handled carefully, they could cripple the organization in pursuit of their own selfish goals.

"Walk with me." It sounded like a request, but Sienna knew it was foolish to disagree with him here. She was too close to going against him, and the last thing she needed was animosity between the two. So despite her misgivings over his recent decisions, she reluctantly joined him as he walked down the length of the ship. Ghira was amicably silent, unaware or uncaring of the anxious tiger Faunus next to him. To him, he was taking a walk with a trusted lieutenant after a mostly successful mission. In contrast, Sienna felt like the usurper, walking next to Ghira like he was a victim. It made her ill to consider betraying him in any way. She had to remind herself that he could step down willingly, if only she could convince him to. Ghira was a sensible man, and had always tried to handle things peacefully and in the interest of all parties. Her cause was right, but... he was Ghira. To take anything from him felt wrong. But it was a price she was willing to pay.

"I was surprised to hear that Sienna Khan of all people had taken in a human." He got out into the open. Sienna blinked at his statement, then her expression soured.

"Alright, who told?" She groaned, and Ghira laughed at her expense. "Was it Tukson? Cain? Or maybe Adam?"

"A wise leader never reveals their sources. It is a lesson you will need in the future, Sienna." At her stricken expression, Ghira smirked once more. "I am not blind to the aspirations of my people. I know you are frustrated with our progress." She couldn't deny it now, not if she wanted to keep her honor. Reluctantly, Sienna nodded.

"We are making progress, but it's not enough. We need more success and soon, or we will be snuffed out by our opponents." The SDC. The Winchesters. Everyone that sneered at the concept of equality. "I know you want us to find victory peacefully, but the things I saw in Vacuo only proved that a more direct approach is needed. We must take the fight to those who would see us shunned and ignored! I know we will get the results we deserve if we just fight back!" Sienna made to go on, but a sailor interrupted her passionate speech. She had Ghira silently watched the man go by, and it allowed her to get her breathing under control. Ghira turned and look back at her, and there was a small amount of disappointment in his eyes.

"I know you feel that what you seek is right, but we cannot fight them without consequences. If we step into that ring, innocent Faunus will be hurt and killed. It will get much worse before it gets better." He was not aggressive with his reproach, but his size paired with the fact that he had been the leader and founder of her precious White Fang made his words sting regardless. It was as if she was standing before a disapproving father instead of a colleague and superior.

"I am willing to shoulder that burden." Sienna challenged, stepping closer and staring him down with determination. "You don't deserve to take the brunt of the humans and their discrimination towards us. Let someone else take that risk!" Ghira stepped back, ceding ground to her as she stepped forward.

"I appreciate your willingness to sacrifice in my stead, but the Kingdoms do not require such an aggressive approach right now." Sienna's ears drooped slightly at what felt like a total shutdown on what she had been working toward. When he saw her reaction, though, some of his resolve wavered. "Still... there's some time before I need to retire, and I can think of few better candidates to replace me when I step down. We will need to discuss your policies a little further, however."

"What?" Had he been testing her this whole time? He was already considering her for his replacement?

"You have a lot of promise, Sienna, and I can't think of anyone who cares for our people as much as you do. But enough politics!" One of Ghira's massive hands settled on the still stunned tiger's shoulder. "Tell me about this friend you made. You aren't exactly well known for your tolerance of humans. What was his name, Arthur?" Oh great. They'd gone from discussing her rise to power to the newest thing to gossip about. And without Kali even being on the ship! Still, he was right in saying that they needed to discuss the White Fang succession further, but the outer deck of a ship crewed by humans and nonmembers of the White Fang was a poor venue. So reluctantly, Sienna told an abridged version of how she had met Arthur. With a little less stabbing of course. Ghira listened patiently as she told the story, asking only a few questions such as where Arthur had come from and why he had suddenly decided to help. Sienna told the truth for the most part, though she maintained that he was from an isolated town called Valentine.

Ghira was understanding but he didn't need the mental gymnastics that came with knowing that there was way to leave Remnant, or at the very least travel to it from another place. On top of that, it was Arthur's secret, and therefore not hers to tell. Tukson had an inkling of Arthur's true origin, but so far he had kept his mouth shut. As far as anyone else knew, Arthur Morgan was a former bandit from the wilderness on Sanus, outside of the Kingdoms. She also wisely kept their drinking night to herself.

"From what he told me, the bandits that had attacked us captured him. He escaped only a little while ago, and is on his way to Kuo Kuana." Sienna finished. Ghira rubbed his chin, his expression thoughtful as he turned to face the passing waves. Somewhat anxious about his admission that he considered her a worthy successor, she wasn't sure how to approach his interest in Arthur. Were the two topics connected, or was he simply being nosy? And if he thought she would be such a good replacement, what did he have left to do besides reinforcing Kuo Kuana? What were his new plans?

"In meeting this man, has your perceptions of humans changed? Or at least how they interact with our people?" That was a loaded question. Yes, Arthur proved that humans could work side by side with the Faunus, and that even the most reprehensible people could shift their priorities. But Arthur was also unique in a lot of respects. It was foolish to assume that every person on Remnant could share his open-mindedness. But she would grudgingly admit that he had altered her view on humanity. If only slightly.

"Arthur isn't a common man." She admitted slowly. "He is human, I cannot dispute that, but his experiences in life have led him to the view he holds. If everyone endured the same trials he has, the world would be a far more miserable place." Torture, betrayal, a debilitating disease that very nearly killed him: it was amazing that Arthur had survived, and with his honor intact no less. He genuinely cared about his fellow man, and to her knowledge had not killed a single person since his first day in Vacuo. He'd brutally injured a few, of that there could be no doubt. But deliberately killing? Adam had slain more on their mission than Arthur had.

"That's quite the compliment, considering it comes from THE lady Khan." Ghira smirked, but eventually relented in his teasing. "That's what I want in my successor, though. The ability to change your mind in the face of new information. For some time, I thought your upbringing had poisoned you against humanity entirely. To hear you have made such a valuable friend in so short a time warms my heart. I would normally worry if you were perhaps trusting too quickly, but even Adam's testimony of the man was glowing." Sienna gave him a dry look, and Ghira had the grace to look sheepish. "Well, by Adam's standards anyway. The boy really needs to control himself better."

"In that, we can agree." Sienna muttered. "There were times when I wanted to strangle him, and it was Arthur that managed to calm him down. He didn't change the boy's mind, but Arthur clearly made him reconsider a few things." He might as well have walked on water, considering the progress he'd made in such a short time.

"I've made an acquaintance that has offered to strengthen our positions in Vale and Atlas, but once I've fulfilled my promises to him I will step down. He is a little strange, I will admit, but if he is being truthful half of your work will be done long before I step down."

Sienna wanted to ask who Ghira's mysterious new friend was since she had been forced to tell about hers, but the sweeping call of 'land HO!' all along the ship interrupted her before she could ask. Ghira and Sienna both turned to face the fore of the ship, and sure enough the dusty island of Menagerie had grown large enough to distinguish buildings and boundaries. A large portion of the arid continent was uninhabited, but the lovely jewel they steamed towards had always been an island paradise. They had finally made it.

The White Fang was coming home.

* * *

**A/N:** My birthday was yesterday, and I took the day off to do nothing but play RDR2 and write this chapter. I had to rewrite it a few times and beef up the escape, but in the end I'm happy with the outcome. Let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Summer would be the first person to say that conflict between friends was bad, and should be resolved quickly. However, as she sat on the back of Sadie's horse and listened to Miss Adler and their newly rescued gang member argue as they left the coast from a _very obvious_ prison break, she began to realize that there was a time and place for everything. This was not either.

John Marston reminded Summer a lot of Arthur, though she doubted either man would appreciate the comparison. From the multiple stories she had managed to harass out of John to the things she'd read in Arthur's journal, the two hated that they were so similar. She'd flipped through Arthur's book to get a better idea of the area and what she was dealing with, and a lot of what Arthur said indicated a grudging respect for the scared man before her. And from everything John alluded to about Arthur, he felt the same for the older gunslinger. What John Marston did not have, however, was respect for Summer Rose.

"Why in the hell did you trust someone like this?" John demanded in his raspy voice. "We've been turned on by people left and right, and you bring someone with you just because said she knows Arthur!" Summer deigned to not feel offended even when he jabbed a finger in her direction. It was a discussion between Sadie and John, Summer didn't need to be involved. At least, that's the reason she wasn't smacking sense into him.

"She _knew_ Arthur, John. The man's gone. He sent her to meet me after he passed." The revelation set Marston back in his saddle, and he blinked a few times as he processed the 'death' of Arthur Morgan. Summer wasn't lying to them so much as she let them assume without correcting their mistakes. Arthur deserved peace, much in the way that she hoped he was preserving her memory as well. What were the odds that he'd run into Qrow or Taiyang anyway?

"He's...he's dead? How?" John shook his head. "When we robbed the bank in Saint Denis, he was fine! Better than fine, actually; that was the maddest I've ever seen him." Sadie huffed as they continued trotting deeper into the woods near Annesburg, away from Copperhead Landing. Behind her, Summer kept a watchful eye out for any trouble. Someone had to, while they had this horseback debate.

"TB. All that coughing he'd been doing wasn't for show. Micah even started calling him Black Lung." She spit to the side at the mention of the hated man. "Summer said she sent him away for treatment, but we all know that's a one way trip." This time, the Huntress did pipe up.

"Hey, I did everything I could. He was feeling better the last time I saw him." Summer defended, though she knew it would fall on deaf ears. In America, medical advances weren't far enough to handle an affliction like Tuberculosis. Anyone diagnosed with the disease was handed a death sentence, and there was no convincing them otherwise without spilling all the beans. And at this point, telling the truth would make them think she was crazy, anyway.

"He was so defeated these past few weeks. I guess I was so caught up in our other problems that I never noticed." Sadie admitted guiltily. "He'd always seemed so bulletproof." John's ire at Summer cooled as he looked away, pulling his hat from the saddlebags of his horse and putting it on.

"I know what you mean. I guess it was just too much to imagine seeing Arthur go down. But then again, I thought that about Hosea and Sean too. Did we lose anyone else?" The path followed the river for a mile or two, and Summer vaguely knew of a small village up in the hills called Butcher's Creek. From what she had been able to find out, Dutch's gang was hiding out somewhere north of there. Which meant her ride was about to come to an end, since Dutch would as sooner shoot her than trust her. From Arthur's musings in his journal, Dutch was slow to trust normally. The paranoid frenzy he had worked himself into now guaranteed that he'd kill Sadie and John as well.

"Lenny. He got shot on the run across the rooftops. Died where he landed, the way Arthur tells...the way he told it." Sadie shook her head. She had really respected Arthur, from what Summer could tell. Sadie had yet to say a foul word about him, even jokingly. If Summer didn't know any better, she'd have said that Sadie was after Arthur. _Oh well. That ship has sunk._ She thought bitterly. Still, now was time for her to part ways with them. If she read the journal right, there was another friend of Arthur's north of Annesburg. A widow he had saved months prior from starvation. Surely Mrs. Balfour would be a safer companion than a crazed Dutch Van der Linde.

"Hang on a second." She called, and Miss Adler pulled the reins and slowed her steed. John mirrored the action shortly after, and they both turned to face her.

"Why, what's wrong?" John called back. His was tone was one of curiosity, but she could still see the mistrust in his eyes. Without answering first, Summer hopped down from Sadie's horse and gave him a soft pat on the rump for his troubles.

"I can't go with you to camp." She stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Given that she not only had helped Arthur in his time of need, but John as well, Sadie was less than enthused about committing a huge crime with Summer and then abandoning her in the wilderness.

"Why the hell not? You're as good as gold in my book, and Abigail would strangle John before he said a foul word about ya. Dutch will listen, we just gotta tell him what happened." John offered a quiet 'hey' at the mention of his woman, but Summer shook her head regardless.

"From everything I heard between you, Arthur, and the general public, Dutch Van der Linde isn't in the most understanding of moods these days. I mean, if John's word meant as much to him, wouldn't he have sent more than just you to get him out?" Sadie opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. "And on top of that, he's leery enough of strangers as it is. Throw Micah into the mix, and we'd all be gunned down before we made it into camp."

"Well what the hell are we supposed to tell Dutch? That Sadie broke me out of Sisika herself?" John demanded. "He's too smart to fall for that. And if Arthur told you half of it, then Dutch will want to talk to you anyway." _To find out what you know_. The second part went unsaid, but Summer had not escaped the wiles of Salem by being foolish.

"I appreciate that you guys want to return the favor, I really do. But I helped you out to pay Arthur back. The only thing left to do is to make sure you and your family escape safely. I'll contact you later, but for right now I need to disappear." Summer offered a bow in thanks, then turned and stepped off of the path. Sadie and John exchanged worried looks, at a loss for what to do.

"Where can we find you if we need you?" Sadie asked, and Summer turned and offered a kind smile in return.

"I'll be keeping an eye on you, don't worry. But come up to Willard's Rest if you want to talk. I'll be there for a few more days." With that, she stepped into the trees. The dogwoods around the path weren't particularly thick, and they only obscured her form for a moment each time. But as she walked deeper into the woods, Summer's white cloak vanished completely. She simply stepped behind a tree too small to hide her form and never stepped out again. The disappearance just further unsettled John, but he and Sadie had no choice but to continue on. The strange woman may have been queer and mysterious, but she had been right too. And Marston needed to have a word with Dutch.

* * *

The first thing Arthur did when he stepped out onto the pier of Kuo Kuana was loosen his collar and unbutton the top two buttons. The island was a temperate one, far more so than Guarma had been, but damn if he wasn't sweltering. His vest and hat helped keep him cool, but even that failed to put a dent in the heat. After he got used to it the weather wouldn't be so bad. But right now? _I feel like a slab a meat on the grill._ Arthur thought, wiping the sweat from his brow. The small schooner he had paid to bring him to the island was already offloading the supplies they were originally contracted to bring, and he'd paid them the last of the lien that Summer had loaned him.

And so, here he was in Menagerie, broke and hot and without his horse. But he was there, at least. Now, he had to find Sienna, find Famine, and maybe get a new weapon or two. As long as the White Fang could foot the bill, anyway. Considering he had gotten captured on their behalf, Arthur figured they owed him at least some hazard pay. He wouldn't demand it, but it didn't hurt to ask. He also had to handle the problem of how his weapons had been weaker than usual against the Grimm, and that was going to take some money.

"Well, one problem at a time." He muttered. Once he got clear of the dock, however, the heat and his poor financial situation paled in comparison to the true majesty that was Kuo Kuana. All around him, small but well built huts and cabins filled the tropical area. Faunus walked by calmly in light robes and short sleeves, though a few wore the more traditional (to him) shirts and pants. He saw some vests and hats here and there as well, but what really struck him was the variety of Faunus that surrounded him. Here, there, and everywhere; people with a staggering amount of different animal characteristics. Some were subtle, like the slitted pupils and scaled skin of a snake Faunus purchasing wares in the market, while others were far more dynamic. One man, and a large one at that, had what looked like elk antlers growing from his head. Just as strong as the animal he resembled, he carried a large rug on each each shoulder as if they weighed no more than bags of grain. Everywhere, Sienna's people talked and joked and laughed and thrived around him. And the palm trees, warm weather, and salty sea air gave the whole atmosphere a light hearted, carefree feeling to it.

_Tahiti._ He realized with a slow smile. _This is what Tahiti would have been like._ If the gang had ever made it like Dutch had promised, his family would be relaxing and living like the people before him.

A few of the Faunus gave him strange looks, seeing a human that willingly came to Kuo Kuana. He gave them all easy smiles and waves, sometimes verbally greeting them if they were close enough. There was a certain amount of distrust, and from what Sienna said about how humans treated Faunus in the Kingdoms he didn't blame them for it. But once he showed that he was no immediate threat, the uneasy distance they kept lessened. There were even children! Boys and girls with cat ears and dog tails and all kinds of other traits rushed about the market near the port, giggling and bumping into things as kids often did. Seeing them sent a strange pang into his chest; his own son had not been much older than six when he'd died, and there was little chance he'd ever be a father again. Still, seeing them run and play without a care in the world brought a smile to his face.

Still, he had to let Sienna know that he was there. Arthur tapped a message to her on his scroll, but she didn't reply immediately. Figuring he'd wait until she sent him instructions, Arthur wandered down a ways from the port and walked along the beach. Several more houses sat on stilts a good ways from the water's edge, but the sand was still soft and white where he stood. Around the homes, most of the driftwood and stray sticks he associated with coastal living had been gathered up. It made sense, in a way. Some people raked leaves, others picked up sticks. The heat aside, and it he was growing accustomed to it, Arthur was starting to really like it here.

_They're stuck here thanks to the Kingdoms, but they've thrived and made a livin' that would make most city folk jealous._ Arthur thought as he strayed further from the market. _They still deserve their fair shake, but I don't think I'd mind living here in the slightest. Of course, I have the choice of it, and that's why Sienna's so fierce about equality._ The Faunus of Menagerie had made it a paradise because it was their only home, and his friend was working to change that.

A little ways out, where the beach was a little less cultivated, a smaller pier stuck out of the forest. It was a lonely strip of wood, and clearly meant for swimming or fishing instead of commerce. Arthur opened his satchel and looked in, and realized he still had his collapsible fishing rod. If he was going to wait, why not see what was biting?

"I ain't fished the ocean in a long time, anyway." He rationalized to himself. Wondering what bait he should use as he went, Arthur never felt the yellow eyes that followed him from behind. He set out for the pier at a comfortable pace, his white alligator fowlers hushed by the pristine sand. The sun above him was shielded by his hat, and Arthur couldn't help but whistle a tune. It was one he'd heard from Pearson, back when the cook had talked about his Navy days.

"Come rest the bars, bullies, heave her away..." Arthur muttered along, tossing in a few lyrics as he whistled. When his boots finally met wood instead of the well traveled sand of the beach, he dug into his satchel and withdrew the fishing pole. He connected the pole's separate portions and ran the line through its appropriate loops, and by the time he reached the end of the pier he had a hook dangling in front of him. Arthur held the pole up and away from him, looking down into the clear blue water of the lagoon. Even out to forty or fifty feet, he could see the small reefs and rocks on the bottom. It was a beautiful sight, and he felt all the better for seeing it. For all the hell he had given Summer in her absence, he never would have seen such a wonderful place as this had she not asked him for help.

"...our shoes and our clothes boys are all in the pawn, to be bought again Randy Dandy, oh..." Arthur hummed the tune along as he dug into his nearly bottomless satchel, this time pulling a tightly wound bundle from the its depths. The gunslinger placed his fishing pole on the pier and leaned it up against the railing, holding onto the hook and nothing else. He carefully undid the cloth, and was quick to catch the large cricket that came crawling out. Hurriedly placing it on the hook, Arthur's hands quickly resecured the cloth and tied it up snugly once more. The biggest fish in the sea wasn't worth a whole slew of the little critters unleashed inside of his bag. Once he was sure his bait wouldn't escape, he stowed it once more and picked the pole back up. Casting a glance backward to make sure no one had snuck up on him and was about to catch a fishing hook to the ear, Arthur drew back and cast, sending the doomed cricket out into the wide blue yonder. The hook and bobber landed with a satisfying _bloop_, and Arthur slowly sat down at the pier's edge. With his feet dangling, the outlaw from America sat contentedly and waited for a bite.

A few minutes passed as the waves rolled in, gently raising and sinking the bobber as he carefully watched. Normally he wouldn't have the patience for fishing, truth be told, but recent months had made him appreciate the small things in life. That, and a no longer terminal disease, anyway. Arthur continued to hum and watch his bait, and was almost surprised when he heard footsteps behind him. Keeping his eye on the water just in case a fish bit while he wasn't looking, he turned his head to see who else was coming.

Had he been a fool, he'd have first mistaken her to be Sienna. However, the woman slowly making her way toward him was far more pale than his tiger striped friend. A black pair of cat ears sat on her head, and one of them was pierced with two gold rings. Dark, chin length hair framed her face in an organized mess if that made sense, and some worry lines sat between her eyes and nose. She wore a more ornate dress than Sienna's, though it maintained the black and white color scheme. The woman also had elbow length gloves that covered her forearms, and her right side was covered by a sleeve. Her left shoulder was bare, and a small purple ribbon was wrapped around her elbow. A brass orchid ornament hung from a small belt that wrapped around her waist, tied at the back and keeping her outer dress together.

"Good morning." She greeted cordially, and Arthur tipped his hat to her in return.

"Ma'am. Come to see if the fish were biting?" He shuffled over a little in case she wanted to sit, but the woman remained standing. Instead, she leaned against the railing on the side.

"Actually, I was sent out here to collect someone. A man named Arthur that wears a cowboy hat and a white vest was supposed to be arriving this morning." She winked conspiratorially at him. "You wouldn't know where I could find someone like that, would you?" Arthur chuckled and gripped his rod, feeling the faint vibrations on the line. Some of the fish were nibbling.

"I'm sure he's somewhere around here. Any particular reason why you're looking for him? I just sat down, is all." He held up his fishing pole in emphasis, and the woman waved him off.

"Sienna Khan requested that you be brought to her 'as soon as possible', though I am curious why she said so many unflattering things as well." The woman snickered when Arthur could only groan in exasperation. "I dread to know what you've done to deserve that."

"Let's just say we had a difference of opinion that wasn't immediately settled." Arthur grumbled. "She's real passionate about protecting her people. I just made a decision for her that she didn't like." Arthur looked up at the woman, and she covered her mouth in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I never introduced myself. I'm Kali. Kali Belladonna." She bowed politely, and Arthur inclined his head. He checked the bobber again, but it didn't look like the fish were biting. Either that, or they'd picked his bait off the hook when he wasn't watching.

"Arthur Morgan, ma'am. It's a pleasure." He paused. "Say, you wouldn't be married to Ghira, would you? Sienna had a lot of good things to say about him." He didn't mention how she'd agonized over replacing him, seeing as how that would be impolite as well as a breach of Sienna's trust. Kali waved off his praise with a polite smile.

"My husband is a dedicated man, but that opinion may be a little outdated. From what I overheard, they've been arguing since late last night." She gave him an appraising look. "Until a few minutes ago, I thought he was the most frustrating man on the planet for her. As it turns out, you seem to hold that lofty title." Yeah, that sounded about right. She'd been mad as a wet hen when he'd sent her off, and the three scroll calls afterward hadn't been enough to sate her anger. It was part of why he'd been eager to go fishing, to avoid an angry tiger.

"If I had to, I'd make the choice again. But she's got every right to be mad, I suppose." Arthur knew better than to argue with an angry woman, even if it was by proxy. He stood up and sighed, slowly reeling his line back in. True to his suspicion, the cricket had been dismembered by the fish with brutal efficiency, leaving only a gleaming steel hook on the end of the line. Arthur shook his head at his luck and took the pole apart, rolling up the line on his reel and placing all of the components back into his bag. When he was finished, he turned back to Kali.

"Well, might as well go and see what she wants. God knows she doesn't need the extra worry." Or the anger, if she really was as upset with him as she let on. Together, he and Kali walked back down the pier, though he made a promise to himself to come back and fish when he had more time. As long as Sienna let him keep his arms, at any rate.

Walking back through the market with Kali at his side was a different experience from his first pass. Where they had eyed him with mild suspicion or ignored him completely, Kali received greetings and smiles from all around. She patted arms and asked quick, polite questions about home projects or recovering family members, all the while maintaining a decent pace to pass through the market. In her presence, Arthur got a few more smiles and nods, but the wife of Ghira Belladonna was just as loved as the man himself, it seemed. No one made any untoward comments or actions, and Arthur was almost able to relax as they passed through the crowds. Ease did not come quickly, however.

"You're quite the popular woman, Missus Belladonna." Arthur complimented as they broke free of the market. The well trodden path climbed a gentle hill toward the center of the island, and Arthur could see the tops of distant trees over the crest. As they came to the top, however, the true view of Kuo Kuana took his breath away.

"Oh, I'm just a housewife, Mr. Morgan." Kali dismissed graciously, unaware of her starstruck guest stopping behind her. "I just try to take care of our people, same as my husband." The people and their homes lay below them. Miles upon miles of tropical forest sprouted up, and in between the trees a city of stilted huts and houses rose up. Every house was well made, if a bit simple in places. There were none in need of repair, though a few were being repainted. A very large house – no, mansion was more accurate – sat in the center of the cultivated forest, half built and crawling with workers. Sienna had mentioned building materials to get Ghira to settle down, but Arthur had never thought she meant something on this scale.

"Wow." Arthur couldn't stop himself, and Kali's ears twitched when she heard it. The woman turned to find the gunslinger with cement in his boots, then saw what it was that captivated him so. This time she did allow a proud smile to sprout on her face.

"I know. Our people were given this island to keep us out of the way, but I think we've made it our own well enough. Some say it was Ghira that made Kuo Kuana great, but I know it was all of us working together that gave us a home to be proud of." Several more Faunus walked past, and Kali offered and received polite greetings as Arthur finally gathered his bearings. When he'd been cured of TB, Arthur had originally thought to return to America after his promise to Summer was fulfilled. But if she honored her own commitment and saved the Marstons... this could be home too. If they'd have him, anyway. His dreams of Tahiti had been dashed after the Saint Denis robbery went bad, but the ashes of those dreams glowed as he stood over Kuo Kuana.

"You got that right." He admitted, and finally found his legs again. He and Kali continued on their journey into the heart of Menagerie's capital, passing people of all traits, sizes, and age. More children ran around the palm trees and houses, laughing and playing as they did so. As they passed, Kali's eyes sharpened and focused on one child in particular. Or teenager, if Arthur were to judge.

"Blake!" She called with some authority, and a young girl with long black hair and a pair of black cat ears froze in mid step. She wore a white t-shirt and a dark gray scarf around her neck. A pair of cargo shorts and black tennis shoes gave her protection from the heat, though her legs were still dreadfully pale. She was definitely the Belladonnas' daughter. Kali marched over to the young girl with Arthur in tow, and the young girl's wide yellow eyes focused on him for all of a nanosecond.

"Yes, mom?" She asked timidly, watching as her friends abandoned her to her fate. Her mother marched up and placed her hands on her hips, the universal sign of maternal disappointment. The little girl's eyes darted this way and that for any sign of escape, but Arthur knew full well that she was caught. Apparently she did too.

"I thought I told you to help your father with the construction order today? If you're going to be of any help around here, you need to know how these things work." Kali scolded, and her daughter seemed to shrink into herself at the stern tone. Arthur found it somewhat funny, though with his limited knowledge of the woman, he didn't know if he wouldn't react the same.

"Dad said I could leave early!" The girl protested. "Miss Khan wanted to talk about White Fang stuff and he told me to go play with my friends." Friends that had now disappeared, she seemed to want to say. Kali shook her head and rolled her eyes at the argument, though she didn't seem to doubt it either. Yes, Blake was definitely a daddy's girl.

"That's Lady Khan, little missy. Run along for now, I suppose. But we'll be going over your homework before dinner tonight." The reminder caused the young girl to groan piteously, but she took off running with a halfhearted wave once more. Kali watched her until she turned a corner and vanished into the forest, before sighing and deflating a little. Arthur didn't know if he should give the woman space or pat her on the back.

"Teenagers and doting husbands." Kali muttered. "The Gods seem content to torment me with both. Do you have any children, Mr. Morgan?" Arthur shook his head with a sad smile, still amused at the display.

"No ma'am. I had a son once, but he passed away. Sickness." He didn't feel like covering that old wound, and bandits were technically a disease in certain circles. Kali's shoulders stiffened as she covered her mouth, but he waved off her apology before she could start. "It was a long time ago, don't worry. I've helped raised a few since then, but I don't have any for myself."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Morgan. I didn't mean to bring up any bad memories." Kali bowed her head slightly, and Arthur grimaced at her sudden turn in mood. Likely she was thinking of how bad she would feel if she lost her daughter, and felt that she had brought a painful memory onto him. She was only partly wrong, but Arthur had made peace with that a long time again.

"No harm done, Mrs. Belladonna. Like I said, it was a long time ago." Arthur looked back to where young Blake had disappeared to. "She your only daughter?"

"Oh goodness, yes. Ghira and I tried so hard just have Blake, and she's our little angel. Most of the time, anyway." Kali's grinning facade cracked at the small admission. "Although all this building has pulled her out of room. It's rare indeed that she isn't spending time with her nose in a book. I'm sure Adam and Illia have hands in that." Adam? The cold, human hating punk was responsible for getting the Belladonna's daughter to be social? Something wasn't right there.

"Well, as long as she's having fun, I guess." Arthur hedged, trying to keep the worry out of his voice at the mention of Adam. Their shared adventures aside, Arthur wasn't too keen on allowing such an angry and troubled teen around impressionable children. He had too much growing up to do himself.

The two continued in comfortable silence into the huge building under construction. Either Ghira was going to have an absolute palace in his honor, or he was going to live at work. Given how well his people spoke of him and the utilitarian way people seemed to live on Menagerie, Arthur was betting on the latter.

Wooden and stone frames surrounded them as they moved deeper into the worksite, though Kali was careful to make sure they took appropriate detours and avoided cordoned off areas. It made the trip longer, but soon they had reached the furnished parts of the compound, and found Sienna standing over a table next to quite possibly the biggest man Arthur had ever seen. Presumably Ghira Belladonna, the man's yellow eyes tracked him as he approached, though the intense scrutiny faded as the man greeted his wife. Coupled with Sienna's glower towards him from the table, Arthur very much felt like the rabbit that had wandered into the bear's den.

"Mr. Morgan, I presume." Ghira's deep voice carried easily over the distance cacophony of tools and working Faunus outside. Its impact almost made Arthur pause, but thankfully Ghira was not the first person Arthur had ever dealt with to have a powerful presence.

"Mr. Belladonna. It's a nice little island you've got here. I was sampling the fish when your wife found me." He gestured toward Kali, and she nodded in agreement. Ghira let his eyes fall on his wife for a moment, then turned back to Arthur with a polite smile.

"From what Sienna has told me, you were quite helpful in delivering our supplies and keeping our people safe. The White Fang owe you a debt." He bowed his head respectfully, and Arthur had the temerity to look sheepish.

"Ah, well...it's what anyone worth a damn would do. Sienna's the one who needs the credit. She came up with the plans, and she's the reason everyone made it out okay. I just threw lead and punches." If he thought Sienna would be pleased that he was deflecting praise onto her, he was sorely mistaken. Her eyes seemed to glow with irritation, and her lips curled into a frown as she looked up at Ghira.

"See what I mean? He treats compliments like the plague. Between that and his _self-sacrificing behavior_," Arthur felt his spine tingle as her voice dipped into a deep growl, "I don't know how I didn't throw him overboard the moment we left Vacuo." Ghira's stern visage cracked as he let out a booming laugh, and Arthur finally felt comfortable enough to step past the door. Kali's eyes roamed between the gunslinger than now stood next to Sienna and the tiger herself, noting in particular the way Sienna's nails dug into the wooden table before them in Arthur's proximity.

"It wasn't that bad. Besides, me and Qrow handled it without even hurting each other. Of course, his sister was another story, but..." He was about to go into the rest of the story, were it not for the murderous stare affixed on him by the tigress next to him. She was the only one in the room with any inkling about his true origins, and somehow discussing how he had fought Raven Branwen, the head of the Branwen tribe of bandits, did not do him any favors with her.

"I've heard of Qrow Branwen. It's strange that one of Vale's most prominent Huntsmen seemed to have quite the grudge with you. Do you know why he was so angry?" Ghira asked curiously, though he didn't sound accusing. Arthur realized he'd have to be careful here, and a quick glance Sienna's way told him she'd be no help. Faunus were good at detecting lies, and he didn't need to go ruining his image in front of the most influential Faunus on the planet.

"It was a misunderstanding on his part." Arthur relented. "His old team leader, Summer Rose, helped me out of a bad spot before she disappeared, and she gave me her scroll. I never really messed with the things before then, so I accidentally activated the tracking on a scroll that was supposed to belong to a dead woman. I'm sure you'd be just as angry if your wife died and suddenly someone on another continent had her scroll." Ghira shifted to look down at his wife, as if to reassure himself that she was in fact not dead and standing right next to him. The woman patted her husband's shoulder affectionately, and Arthur could see the emotions flash across the big man's face briefly before he controlled himself once more.

"Yes, I can see why he was so upset with you. I trust you were able to explain yourself to him?" Ghira crossed his massive arms. "I don't believe you've done anything wrong, but the White Fang can't afford to harbor a fugitive, even an innocent one, at such a critical time in our development." Sienna bristled at that, but thankfully Arthur had the right answer to that one.

"After we were both captured, I managed to escape and I brought him with me. I saved his life and explained myself, and he doesn't seem to hate me anymore. I don't think we have to worry about that. And if push comes to shove, I can live out in the wild for a while, anyway." Arthur shrugged. "Besides, I don't think he's the type to let personal grudges like that go public. Man's got an ego."

Ghira rubbed his chin in thought, and Arthur was worried that his defense wasn't enough to convince the large man. Fortunately though, Kali spoke up on his behalf.

"Let it go, dear. If the Huntsman truly did have a grudge against Mr. Morgan, I doubt this would have been the first time we heard of it. Adam, Tukson, and Sienna all vouch for his honesty as well." Ghira stared down at his wife, but her unflinching gaze caused him to relent. Beside Arthur, Sienna crossed her arms in silent support as well.

"I apologize for doubting you. It seems that even I am not above prejudice when it comes to humans." Ghira bowed his head once more. "Forgive me for thinking less of you." Alright, there was a backhanded compliment if he'd ever received one. Still, Ghira seemed genuine, and it would probably hurt Sienna's cause if he snubbed the guy. Judging by his size, Arthur's health would likely be in danger as well.

"No worries. No harm done. Sienna and Tukson both have told me the things your people have been through. Honestly, I'm amazed you've been as nice as you have." Ghira was the representative of – even by Arthur's standards – a thoroughly abused and exploited people. Even were he not ignorant of Arthur's true background, Ghira had every right to be suspicious of him. Thankfully though, the White Fang's leader was as fair as he was intimidating.

"That is gracious of you. I can see why Sienna is so fond of you. You truly appear to care for our cause." Ghira ignored Sienna's indignant 'what?', and stepped around the table to offer his hand to Arthur. The gunslinger looked down at the massive appendage for a moment, then rolled his shoulders and grasped the hand with his own. Ghira's palm dwarfed his own easily, and the man's strength was evident in his handshake. It felt like he'd shoved his hand into the gears of a crane.

"Like I said, it's what anyone worth a damn would do. Besides, Sienna promised to help me with my own goal once the White Fang were in a good spot. I've got a very important package to deliver to Ozpin in Vale." He patted his satchel, though the Relic itself was stowed in Famine's saddlebags. Speaking of which, he needed to check on the horse when he had a chance. "It was the last request of Summer Rose."

"I see. Far be it from me to stop a man from carrying out such a task. I'll make sure to arrange-" Ghira was cut off as Kali reached up and placed a hand on his shoulder. She beckoned him to lean down, and began whispering into his ear. Ghira listened intently, and the only indicator of what she spoke of was the way Ghira's eyes cut between Arthur and Sienna. Beside him, Sienna's own ears were perked, though her confused expression said she didn't pick up everything. When Kali released her husband, the man cleared his throat.

"On second thought, we could use someone with your experience here. At least until the construction projects are finished. The White Fang are restless, and we've had so few favorable encounters with humans. I'd be willing to compensate you for it." Ghira swept his hand over the table, palm upwards. "Think of it as a public relations job." He looked up at Arthur expectantly, and he could feel Sienna's eyes on him as well. He turned to face her, and saw she had her calm, neutral mask on. She wouldn't ask him to make either decision in front of Ghira. Not when he was a potential rival for the head of the White Fang. This was a decision he would need to make on his own; new to this world, ignorant of its politics outside of what Sienna and Tukson and Adam told him. And it was also against what he promised Summer, in a roundabout way. But still, the prospects were enticing. The warm climate, the happy people, working together to help them moving forward...

It was decision that didn't take long to make.

"I've spent half my life on the run from one thing or another. I've lost friends, family, and never even been able to stop and mourn them. The Faunus here have been kinder to me than even the best of the church." Arthur looked around at the half finished room. "Take all the time you need. I could use a break for once." He held out a hand. Just as he had with Tukson, with Sienna, he now extended an offer of allegiance with Ghira. And just as the others had before him, Ghira took it without hesitation.

"Welcome to Menagerie." Ghira said with a smile, one echoed by his wife. Arthur grinned as well, though he was more than glad when Ghira released his hand. He had shaken hands with a lot of men, but damn was Ghira strong! Sienna nodded in acceptance of the deal, though he knew he'd get her true opinion of it later. And depending on how her mood was, a few sharp things as well. They still hadn't had it out over him staying behind.

"Glad to be here." Arthur suddenly remembered something, though. He was out of money. "Not to start raining on the parade, but I'm a little...broke. Is there a place I can stay until I get back on my feet?" He winced at how he'd immediately soured the mood, but thankfully Ghira laughed loudly enough to stop any tension from forming.

"Don't worry, my friend. If I hadn't planned for that, I would not have made the offer." Clearing his throat, Ghira addressed his second in command. "Lady Khan, do you have any suggestions as to where Mr. Morgan might rest his head?" Somehow, the pleased look on Kali's face was _just_ on the other side of smug. Sienna, however, was finally broken from her calm demeanor. Now, she looked poleaxed.

"Ah, that would be...um." She was reaching, but obviously couldn't grasp any alternative to what she just knew Ghira was suggesting. "I...suppose I have a spare room, if no one else can be bothered." Arthur tried very hard not to take pleasure from the embarrassed way she held herself. Still, it was his responsibility to bail her out of this awkward situation.

"She doesn't have to do that. I've got enough supplies on my horse to get by, especially in this weather. I'll find a nice little private spot near the beach and we'll all be happy." Arthur was curious where Famine had gotten off to. The horse was, by all appearances at least, just a horse. His ability to get into trouble when Arthur wasn't watching was still unparalleled. At the unintended suggestion that he'd rather sleep on the beach than inconvenience her, Sienna finally bristled in his direction for once.

"And what if a squall comes in from the ocean and blows your little tent away? Or if the Grimm attack while you sleep? That would be completely unacceptable." She turned on him with all the indignation of a woman whose husband he'd beaten to death. Her teeth flashed in the morning sun that came in from the windows. "I did not waste all this time saving you from your own ignorance to watch you died to a rogue wave!" Ghira and Kali stepped back a bit, content to watch the two come to an arrangement. Arthur knew better than to incite an already angry woman, particularly one with past grievances, but he'd rolled over and shown his belly enough.

"That's mighty kind of ya, but I can fend for myself. I fought off curious bears and angry wolves while you were learning how to swing that fancy chain of yours." He barked back, not aggressively but firm enough to tell her he wasn't backing down. He expected grudging compliance, or maybe even a bruised ego he'd have to apologize to later. He got neither.

"It wasn't a request, _Mister Morgan._ Either report to my home tonight with your belongings, or I'll bury you under the jail for insubordination!" Oh, really now? Some color crept onto Arthur's face as he faced her fully, standing just a few inches taller than Sienna despite her Faunus appendages.

"I don't remember signing anything that said I worked for you, Lady Khan." Arthur lifted his chin in a clear sign of victory, arms crossed. "I was never _subordinate_ to start with."

"Spoken contracts are binding in their own right, Mr. Morgan. Especially in front of witnesses! Need I remind you that you agreed to compensation upon completion of the construction?!" Sienna snarled back, ears flat in clear aggression.

"Well how's about I forfeit those rewards and go on my merry way? I'm sure the Grimm won't last long enough to care about a man and his horse." Sienna's yellow eyes narrowed as she drew in breath for another barrage of barely polite threats.

Ghira and Kali sat back and watched the two friends bicker, totally oblivious to the married witnesses as the argument grew more and more heated. Sienna and Arthur had now abandoned all senses of decorum and were now in each other's faces, spittle flying and faces burning as they traded barbs and promises of retribution.

"It's almost cute, you know? They haven't even got a clue." Kali commented, and Ghira grumbled in response.

"She clearly cares about him. Nothing romantic, if all this bluster is to be judged, but she would have backed down long ago if he were just another human." Ghira sighed heavily. "Still, there is work to be done, and this is unbecoming of both of them." Kali pouted at losing a good source of gossip, but Ghira's clapping hands stopped the screaming match before it became physical. Sienna's teeth were bared, so her claws weren't far away. The two turned and focused once more on the White Fang leader and his wife, reminded that there were indeed other people in the room.

"I can see that you two have the discussion well in hand, but I brought you here to discuss more than just the terms of Mr. Morgan's extended employment." Ghira said with an air of amusement. The two looked away from each other and faced the table once more. "Construction continues at a gradual pace, but we need more guards along the walls until they have been properly reinforced. I've been told you are something of a marksman, Arthur. If I may call you that."

"If you're paying the bills for the next few weeks, you can call me anything. Long as it's civil." Arthur pointed his thumb towards the door. "As long as the terrain ain't too rough, I can cover a lot of ground on horseback. My rifle's effective at three hundred yards. Anything further than that, and I'll have to close the gap. How much wall are we talking here?"

A map came from within Ghira's vest and was laid out on the table, and his spat with Sienna was forgotten in favor of planning. The construction had adequate security so far, so Arthur didn't need to start right away. But the sooner he got out there, the sooner the rest of the guards could cover other areas more effectively and guarantee faster build times. Contrary to how Summer had represented it, Huntsman level fighters weren't as common as he had first believed. Arthur agreed to start his watch over the wall being built in the southern sector, the most dangerous direction and therefore the most vital defense, the next morning at eight. Until then, he was given leave to sort out his living situation and find suitable replacements for his weapons. According to Ghira, Kuo Kuana had a competent gunsmith that could replace Arthur's guns with something carrying a little more punch.

When he and Sienna left the meeting room fifteen minutes later, the smoldering glare she leveled at him told Arthur that she was still quite upset with him. On top of sending her away during the bandit raid, he now had to contend with the fact that he had argued with her in front of her superior. Not the best foot to start out on when there was a good possibility he'd be rooming at her place.

"This way. Try not to get lost." Her tone was clipped and frosty, and Arthur decided not to dig that hole any further by commenting. Sienna led the way back down the path from the new building, down into the valley of Kuo Kuana. When they reached the lowest point and the road began to arch back up toward the market, Sienna turned down a small, seldom trodden path that went under a thick stand of trees. There were a few houses that Arthur thought belonged to Sienna at first, but she passed them all and traveled deeper into the forest.

The boundary for Kuo Kuana's limits passed close by, meaning that Sienna lived at the edge of the city's inner district. When she brushed aside a few bushes and held them back for him, Arthur stepped into the clearing and whistled appreciatively.

Sienna's home was more than just a house. A bungalow was the closest term he could think of for the structure, being low rise and having a wrap around porch. The house had a porous foundation of stone from what Arthur could see, and multiple thick posts kept it off of the ground in case of flooding. The house was painted white along the walls with black accents, much like her attire. The roof was comprised of clay tiles, dark in color and aligned at an angle to provide drainage in the event of a downpour. Two windows were visible from the front door, which was of a sturdy wood if he was guessing right. As they drew closer, Arthur could hear snorting coming from the back of the house.

"He's been waiting for you since we got here." Some amusement crept into her voice, but she didn't turn to face him. "You'd better go calm him down before he breaks through my fence." Keen on doing just that, Arthur walked around the edge of the house to find a modest yard in the back. A four foot fence provided minimal separation from the surrounding forest, and was more of a polite suggestion than anything. Still, Famine nickered from inside the fence, his saddle absent and his coat freshly brushed from what Arthur could see. He didn't run up to the horse, since he clearly wasn't going anywhere, but Arthur would deny it to no one that his pace quickened a little bit. After relying on the animal for so long, being without him for the short walk from Raven's waterfall hideout to Shiroyama had been a stressful affair. He hadn't thought that Sienna would mistreat Famine, but his heart was eased a little regardless to find the horse playfully tossing his head.

"Hey there, boy. How you doin'?" Arthur asked with a grin, patting the horse on the neck and scratching underneath his cheek. Famine shook his head in response, apparently just as happy to see Arthur as the gunslinger was to see him. Grass shifted behind him as Sienna approached, and Arthur turned his head to look at her.

"I hope he wasn't a hassle for ya." Arthur stated. "You didn't have to bring him to your home." He would have been fine with picking him up from port or even the town's edge. Famine was a hardy horse; he could handle most problems himself.

"That would be poor reward for how well he took care of me on the way here." Sienna dismissed his thanks with a wave. "Sienna Khan always repays her debts, be they to man or beast."

"Sienna Khan also likes to refer to herself in the third person." Arthur teased, earning another huff from his host. When she stepped up beside him to pet Famine, he found himself pulled into another memory. The way that the looming shadows from the trees overhead dancing across her skin reminded him of another cat he'd encountered in the tropical forests near the Braithwaite Manor in Lemoyne. The tiger stripes of her Faunus heritage played hell on his eyes as she stepped into the shadows, unaware of his sudden focus.

Between the ears, the yellow predatory eyes, and her unique appearance, he was reminded of the 'Giaguaro' panther he'd hunted before the Saint Denis robbery. When she turned to face him, however, the memory faded.

"Thanks again for all of this." Arthur hid his appraisal of her with a tilt of his head, hiding his eyes from her under the brim of his hat. "You didn't have to go through the trouble." Her hand joined his as they stroked Famine gently, alternating between rubbing his neck and patting his side. It was a useful distraction, and the horse was loving the attention.

"I always take care of my friends, Arthur. You risked a lot to get us here in one piece. You may think that it was nothing, but I'm not some rich Schnee." A biting tone crept into her voice at the mention of the SDC's reigning family. "You could have died, Arthur."

There it was. If they were going to get along during his time on Menagerie, Arthur knew he had to nip this in the bud. Still, he had no illusions on _why_ she was so angry with him. He'd as good as sacrificed himself for the good of people he hadn't even known for a full month, and there had been no guarantees on whether he would make it out. For all Sienna knew, Qrow had killed him within ten minutes of fighting him. Having someone chastise him for throwing himself into dangerous situations reminded him of simpler, more honest times. Back when Mary had come around...

"I know. But more people were at risk than just me. If it had been just you and me, we could have taken all of them down together." He looked her in the eye as he said that, hoping she recognized the truth his gaze. "We had wounded and untrained folk in those trucks. Fighting someone like Raven Branwen in that situation is just asking for trouble."

"That doesn't make you expendable, Arthur! You don't have TB anymore." Sienna looked ready for another bout like they'd had in the meeting room, but she just sighed in defeat instead. "I still can't think of what should have been done, but I am not happy with your decision. None of my people are expendable, not even the hired ones." Arthur immediately felt bad at seeing her give up like that. He knew that he had made the right call, but it was the right bad decision. What she said about TB had the ring of truth to it, though. Looking back, he hadn't been too worried about the future with that two letter death sentence hanging over his head. The Wapiti tribe, the Downes family, every little scrap and fight lost its meaning when he felt like a dead man already. Like he had less to lose. Now that he had a second chance on life, he was still fighting like a dead man. Maybe she was right? He should have been more careful.

"It was a bad situation, Sienna. I know I'm not some throw away gun, but I had to make a call. It was either fight it out with Qrow and let someone get hurt, or cut y'all loose and take my chances. If he had anything to do with Summer, then I knew he wouldn't kill me outright. She ain't like that, and I was willing to bet she didn't associate with people that were. Turns out, I was right." Twice, if you technically count Raven. He'd found her picture on Summer's scroll as well, a group of Raven, Summer, her husband Tai, and Qrow all together in their younger days. Apparently they'd been in a gang of sorts years back, and now they were a fractured team.

"That was a gamble and you know it. Next time, make sure you tell me what you're doing before you throw yourself to the dogs. I was furious!" He couldn't help but chuckle as she fought to keep from working herself up all over again. Today had not been good for her blood pressure.

"If we can afford it, I'll make sure you know what I'm doing, _Lady Khan_." He disguised his laugh at her irritated look as a cough, then looked around the property, searching a for a reason to change topics. He didn't need her testing her claws on him, no matter how tough his hide was. "This is a nice home you have here, truly. I always dreamed of a place like this." Sienna took his distraction for what it was and nodded, looking around the homestead with a proud smirk.

"I barely spend any time here these days, but it's home. I didn't even know about this little place until Ghira convinced me to come here in the early days of the Fang. I always considered Menagerie a cage, an island zoo that the Kingdoms shoved us into so they could forget about us. I'm glad to say I was wrong in at least one respect." She gestured toward the secluded path they had taken to reach her home. "I found it on accident, collapsed and dilapidated. The previous owner had been killed by Grimm before Kuo Kuana had been secured. I worked out here to fix it up while we gathered people. Now, it's the one place I can go without having to put on a front."

"I imagine Mr. Khan must have helped out as well." Arthur said conversationally. Given how strong and beautiful Sienna was, he was amazed he hadn't met her husband sooner. If he was anything like Ghira, Arthur was heavily considering the beach idea. To his utter disbelief, Sienna laughed at his comment.

"Had he existed, I'm sure he would have been quite useful." Sienna put her hands on her hips and gave him a challenging glare. "What's the matter, did you think I couldn't do this myself?" Arthur held up his hands in defense, put on the back foot even though he could see her lips curling into a smirk.

"Just amazed that you ain't married, is all. Surely someone out there saw the might Sienna Khan and thought she was one hell of a woman." Maybe he was laying on a little thick, but if she was still harboring any lingering urges to squish him flat, that was a line he didn't want to cross.

"Now who's speaking in the third person?" She snorted. "No, there have been suitors. I just never found any of them worthy of my time. You must understand, the White Fang is my life. I couldn't afford any distractions, or everything that we worked for would be for nothing. It made settling down...problematic." She tried to hide it, but he could tell it wasn't exactly ideal for her. She was lecturing him about sacrificing himself for everyone else, when she was doing the same thing for the White Fang? Didn't she understand that it was nearly the same thing?

"You gotta take time for yourself, you know? There's Sienna Khan, leader of the White Fang and savior of the Faunus." Arthur waved his right hand and held it up, then did the same with his left. "And then there is Sienna Khan, regular person that loves, hates, and hurts like the rest of us lowly mortals. You can't be two people at once; it ain't healthy." Sienna brushed off his comment with a smirk, and reached up faster than he anticipated. His head was suddenly uncovered, and she twirled the white alligator skin hat around her finger.

"Since when did the gunslinger from America have a psychiatric degree?" She tossed the hat back at him before he could come after it. "If you were smart, you'd charge me for your time." This time, it was Arthur's turn to laugh.

"If my word was worth that much, I wouldn't need these." He patted his holsters. "I've been around a few times, though, and I know what it's like to watch someone burn out. I think you're too important to these people to tear yourself up like that." Sienna stepped away from the fence and back toward the front porch, causing him to follow. Famine pouted as much as a horse could from lack of attention.

"I can only be a leader for so long. As Ghira is hopefully going to discover, leader's change all the time." She said dismissively, but Arthur's cough made her turn around.

"I meant more than just a leader, you know. You've got friends here too." And after everything he'd been through already, he considered himself one of those friends. It made her smile, which was enough for what the conversation was worth.

* * *

"Quit buttering me up and get in here. I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."

**A/N:** Birthday wishes were appreciated, you guys are alright. I'm slowly building up to an equipment change and some friendly times between Arthur and the White Fang. Kali ships hard, too. That woman is a matchmaker. The next chapter will suffer a short time skip, and we'll also cover the changes happening in America. Summer's meddling and the Marstons believing that Arthur is dead will dramatically affect the Van der Linde gang, and we may see a schism appear earlier than usual. I'm sure Summer believes that she has the worse time, too. Considering an omake to break up some of the serious moments. Also, Happy Birthday, SangheliosSwordmaster.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Chapter 8 was a little slow, but we needed to keep out of the firefight long enough to explain the next one. Arthur has a regular nine to five here, doing what we all know he does best. Slinging guns. A few reviewers guessed at Ghira's mysterious benefactor, but we won't discover that one just yet. Not with another mansion job on the horizon. If you thought the Braithwaite Manor was a doozy, wait until you see the next one!

* * *

**Chapter 9**

The prey didn't notice him. In the mid day heat, humans and Faunus were weary when outside, building their strange machines and giant homes. That weariness lowered their guards, and made them easy pickings for Grimm such as him. The Beowulf slowly crept through the underbrush, sneaking up on the Faunus that had gotten separated from the rest of its herd.

The man had a steer's antlers sprouting from his head, and had removed his shirt due to the day's heat. Clad in only a vest and light pants, there was no armor to dull his claws on, no hard points to chip his teeth. The prey stepped away from the large structure, wiping his brow and reaching for a bottle of water. His discomfort, the argument this morning with his girlfriend, and the general resentment of being stuck on an island all cultured a lovely blend of negative emotions. The Beowulf had no stomach, but he salivated nonetheless. He slowly eased through the brush, the construction going on around him masking his sound even as the shadows cloaked him from their sight. By the time he struck, it would be too late. There would be no one to save his prey, and only anger and sadness to be left behind. More negative emotions to feed on, and all he had to do was-

_CRACK!_

Whatever else the Beowulf had planned, a neat round the size of a half dollar punched through his bone mask, splattering his gray matter all over the tree behind him. The sudden gunshot startled the birds from the trees, and the Faunus that had been in danger looked up in surprise. When he saw the slumped form of the dissolving Beowulf, he turned and waved toward the hill on the outside of the perimeter. Atop the rise, Arthur waved back, his rifle smoking from the barrel and he racked the bolt and slid another round into the chamber. His Krag-Jorgensen rifle had sat idle on Famine's saddle for too long. It was bulky and kicked like a mule, but there was something to be said about shooting things that couldn't immediately get a hold of him. The mahogany stock was carved with the image of a howling wolf, and the barrel, sights, trigger, and bolt were all cast in black iron. Golden leaves and vines had been engraved into the metal as well, and the scope was nearly as long as the barrel itself. He'd found it on the corpse of one of the Braithwaites' guards during their con on the old southern family. Josiah Trelawny, a distant friend of the Van der Linde gang, had been taken hostage by a group of bounty hunters. After Arthur and Charles had 'convinced' the bounty hunters to give up Trelawny, quite a few guards had discovered their little killing spree.

The memories of the gang were bittersweet, even as Arthur scanned the construction for any more Grimm incursions. The creatures were few and far between considering the relatively good spirits of Kuo Kuana, but he'd still sent about fifteen of them to the afterlife that day alone. None had gotten close enough to hurt anyone, and Arthur was determined to keep it that way. The past three weeks had been both a bore and exciting at the same time. Unlike when he ran with Dutch and the others, Arthur wasn't exactly free to roam the countryside and get into all kinds of trouble like he had in America. On the flip side, however, exploring Kuo Kuana had yielded its own adventures and perks.

The first had come in the form of young Blake Belladonna, who had found him fishing one day. At first, the young girl had been shy and just watched him from afar, until Arthur got tired of eyes on the back of his head and called her out. Now, whenever he went fishing in his free time, the teen managed to find him. She'd asked him to usual questions, like how he and Sienna had met and where he had come from. Arthur and his current roommate had worked together a mostly airtight backstory of being a bandit on Sanctum for most of his adult life. It provided an out for all the wild stories he'd told, and all he had to do to make them believable was throw in a few Grimm or recognizable cities. Little Blake ate of the tales, often asking questions about why he had done this or what would have happened if he had done that. In most cases, Arthur had an answer ready for her. When he didn't, he told her why it was such a difficult choice.

Another benefit had been his fame among the White Fang. Tukson, Adam, and Sienna all told tales with some frequency, but his true claim to fame came from Felicia. The young girl had been the one he'd saved from going over a railing during the Sea Feilong attack. Whereas the others were more reserved in their story telling, Felicia couldn't stop singing praises about how the human had saved her from certain death and shot the eye out of a diving dragon. Every time the got told, he got bigger it seemed. By the time it reached Sienna's ears, the dragon had dwarfed the ship itself and fired laser beams from its eyes. As much as the praise pleased Arthur, Sienna was quick to set them straight when she heard any 'inflated' tales.

"There's no reason for his ego to get any bigger." Had been her reasoning. Arthur thought she was just jealous.

Living with Sienna had also come with its own trials. Indoor plumbing was a plus, no matter how new it was to him. He'd seen a few flushing toilets in Saint Denis, but having access to one every day made him reconsider going out into the wilderness. Every valve in the house brought water in some way, shape, or form it seemed. It had been a humorous sight indeed when Sienna had walked in on a fully grown man turning a faucet on and off in an attempt to figure out its inner workings. Technology truly was mind blowing, especially to a simple cowboy like him. The other thing that he learned, quite quickly he might add, was that one did not wear shoes in Sienna Khan's house. He'd made the mistake late one night getting back from patrol, and the dirt that had clung to his boots was found inside of them the next morning. Sienna explained that outdoor shoes of any kind made a house all the messier, and it was easier to keep clean if he just left them at the door.

Sienna also wore...different clothing when she was staying home. He'd only seen one day where she'd had the house to herself in the three weeks he'd spent on Menagerie, but it was not a day he'd soon forget. For a variety of reasons. Sienna's comfortable clothes consisted of a tight black top that left her shoulders and midriff bare, some exercise shorts that reached her mid thigh, and a strange black half coat that barely covered the underwear. She also wrapped her feet for when she had used a small training area outside, and the combination of acrobatics and sweaty Sienna had Arthur seeking extra duties around the wall, lest his mind enter dangerous territory. Arthur respected Sienna as a dear friend that had gone above and beyond to take care of him. He wasn't about to disrespect that friendship by staring at her in her small clothes. Even if she seemed to be art in its purest form.

Sienna had challenged him to a sparring match all of one time, and her training outfit aside, Arthur knew he'd be in hot water if he ever met her fist to fist. Arthur's fighting style relied on dirty tricks, hard blows, and using whatever he had on hand to win. Dirt from the ground, spit in the eye, boot to the groin; Arthur didn't win fights by playing fair. Stepping into a ring with nothing by his fists and his wits with a woman who lived and breathed martial arts was just foolhardy. He'd scrapped with Adam on a few occasions, and the young Faunus had proven himself capable in hand to hand combat. Arthur's Dead Eye was the only real way for him to take advantage, and even then it wasn't perfect. Adam had quickly learned to feint.

"Hey, Arthur!" A voice snapped him out of his reverie, and Arthur turned to see Tukson walking up the hill. Having officially retired from the White Fang, Tukson Stark was currently living off of Ghira's hospitality for the next few weeks until he could get a better grip on his finances. From what Arthur had heard, Tukson himself had been somewhat scarce, and burning through writing materials almost faster than Ghira could provide them. As the Faunus approached with a sheaf of paper in his hands, Arthur suspected he was about to find out.

"Tukson. What brings you into my woods?" Arthur called, resting his rifle across his elbow and pointing down. Tukson panted a little bit as he climbed the hill, but it seemed to be more from excitement than exertion. When he reached the top, he all but threw the papers he had into Arthur's hands.

"I wanted you to give it a read before I sent it off to a publisher. I gotta say, this is some prime material right here." Tukson looked ready to burst from excitement, wringing his hands as he looked at Arthur expectantly. "Well, what are you waiting for? Read it!"

"Alright, alright. Don't get pushy. And watch for critters, would ya? I'm on the clock right now." Arthur groused as he looked over the cover page, which only had a few lines of letters. There was no title that he could see, but there was a subtitle and an author listing. The subtitle read, _"Flight from Blackwater,"_ and the author was listed as _Tacitus Kilgore._ That more than anything caused Arthur to chuckle. He flipped through the pages, and found the story starting just as the gang had taken cover in Colter, the abandoned mountain town where Davey had died. Tukson was spot on with the description on Colter's cold and unforgiving winter. Reading the words on the page, corrections and typos aside, took Arthur back to those miserable days. He pulled himself out of it before he could get too immersed in going down memory lane. He shuffled the weighty stack of papers in his hands, then looked back up at Tukson.

"What the hell is this? The Biography of Dutch Van der Linde?" Arthur asked jokingly, but he couldn't help the conflicted emotions he felt at seeing his struggles put to paper. He'd known it would be publicized when he had handed it to the Faunus, but Tukson's love for literature had certainly done him favors when it came to capturing the scenes from Arthur's past.

"I thought you might like it, since you had the original source material. I can't thank you enough for this, Arthur. This could be just what I need to get my shop started." Tukson was nearly shaking with excitement. Arthur handed the papers back to Tukson just so the man would have something to do with his hands, and gave the perimeter another long, slow look before he turned back to him.

"That's pretty good. I almost felt like I was there for that one." He complimented. "You're obviously a better writer than me." The way he spoke, he made it clear that he wanted to be remembered as an author, not writing down a first hand account. That would lead to further questions that he didn't feel like answering. Tukson picked up on his enunciation, and thankfully didn't press further with it.

"I've sent the rough draft to a few publicists in Vale, to try and get a reaction. So far, those I've spoken to are excited to see the final product." Tukson paused, and stuck out his free hand. Arthur extended his own and shook it, though he didn't quite understand what the big deal was.

"I can't wait to see it." Arthur said with a grin. "Just make sure you keep that name of yours clean, mister Kilgore." Pen names were common even back in America, and it was a good way for those in less than ideal social situations to get their work out there. A lot of the books he'd read were worth nothing but dog shit, but Tukson looked like he had it in hand.

"I'll be careful. You know, if you come up with anymore..." Tukson trailed off as Arthur raised a hand, his eyes tracking a small little blob of black down in the valley. Another Grimm, this time a two legged Creep, was slowly making its way toward the wall and the builders that were adding to it. Arthur pulled his rifle up and peered through the scope, unaware of the golden glow his eyes had. Time slowed to a crawl, and he had the trigger pulled and the Creep dusted before it took a single step more. The creature screeched in pain and dove into the dirt, twitching once before it too began to disintegrate. The workers nearby looked up at the noise, then offered Arthur a couple of waves and salutes and went back to what they were doing.

"I'm glad we've got you up here." Tukson said honestly as Arthur racked the bolt. "Ghira says we'll be done in another week or so with so much progress. From what I've heard, Sienna has the succession all lined up. There's even talk of a mission once the dust settles." Even though he was getting out of the movement, Tukson still cared about the people in the White Fang. No one could take that from him, and even taking on a pen name he would always remember the people that had stood by his side. Arthur had to commend him for getting out however. The worse cause to fight for was the one you didn't believe in, and Tukson didn't believe in blowing up buildings or beating up mechs.

"Just doing my job, Tukson. Trying to stay out of the house at this point." Arthur grumbled. The man didn't need to hear about how Sienna was unintentionally spooking him out of the house, but somehow he could imagine that the man understood how intimidating it was to sleep on the Khan's couch.

"I'm sure it has its hardships." Was that jealousy in his voice? What did he expect, that they were playing hide the apple? Honestly, she'd probably break him at this point in their friendship. Arthur gave Tukson a dry look, and the Faunus held up his hands in surrender.

"It most certainly does." Arthur replied in a flat tone. "What's the matter with the title?" Tukson winced at that and rubbed the back of his head.

"I couldn't come up with a good title that stuck. Depending on how popular this one becomes, I may turn it into a series. I'll have a better idea once it makes it past the editor." Tukson sighed, looking out over Kuo Kuana. The afternoon was dragging on, and the sun was high in the sky, banishing shadows and showing the city for what it was. It was the best view of the Faunus capital of Remnant that Arthur had ever seen. If he hadn't given his journal to Tukson, it would have been a fine think to draw.

Come to think of it, Summer's scroll had a camera function, didn't it? Pulling the device from his satchel, Arthur held it up sideways so that it was taking a landscape style picture, then pressed the capture icon. There was a muted click, and Arthur looked down at his first picture taken on Remnant. Without his journal, maybe pictures and recordings would be the new way he recorded his travels?

"Well, I won't keep you any longer. Are you coming to the celebration tonight?" Tukson asked, earning a surprised frown from Arthur.

"We're having a party? I didn't know about that." He'd been pulling as many shifts as possible to avoid comfortable Sienna, which was far scarier than serious Sienna. Well, maybe not scarier, but definitely a threat to the status quo. It was her own home; what right did he have to tell her to put more clothes on?

"Yeah, it's a surprise for Sienna, I think. Apparently Ghira's springing the leadership on her early and starting his term as Chieftain. I thought someone would have told you by now. It's at the Chieftain's house at seven thirty." Arthur gestured toward the wilderness around them, and Tukson nodded in understanding. "I see."

"For what it's worth, is there really any other candidate for leader? Honestly, I mean? Ain't nobody else really stepped up to the plate that I've seen." Arthur squinted down as more movement in the trees attracted his attention. He relaxed, however, when it proved to be a flock of birds.

"The Lupin brothers have been around since the war, but they're even more extreme than Adam. As far as they're concerned, the Faunus are the next step in human evolution, and the previous generation needs to be purged. Real war hawks, the both of them, and they're too dedicated to the idea to make peace with the humans. They'll be some of Sienna's biggest obstacles when she takes over." Tukson shrugged. "Besides them, the only one else with any kind of power is Adam, but he's backing Sienna. He'd rather run missions than sit back and direct people."

The mention of the bull Faunus caused Arthur's brow to crease. He was on speaking terms with the teen, but they still had their disagreements. As far as Arthur was concerned, the boy was still far too militant when it came to human affairs. On the flip side, Arthur baffled Adam as a former bandit that preached change in people's lives. It was like listening to a shark talk about the benefits of veganism. Still, the boy didn't outright reject him every time they spoke, so Arthur had to assume that his words at least gave the teen something to think about.

"Tell you what: we'll poke around a little more tonight. What should I wear?" He had bought more clothes since coming to Menagerie, and had a few outfits similar to what he had worn in America. He had a puff tie and a necktie, both in black, and a few more formal clothes in case the event was really nice. Tukson waved him off, though.

"The White Fang don't usually put stock in fancy clothes. Wear whatever feels appropriate. We'd be hypocrites if we demanded everyone wear a suit and tie." Tukson winced at his mistake. "Uh, _they_ would be, anyway." Arthur sighted up on another Creep that approached the wall, dropping it within fifty feet of the workers. He felt a little bad for Tukson, though. The man had been with the Fang for a long time, and they felt like a part of him. It was just like when Arthur had left Dutch's gang.

"It hurts, I know. But the Fang is in good hands. You have to live your life the way you see fit. We'll handle it from here." Arthur racked the bolt and looked through the scope again, making sure the Grimm didn't have any immediate friends. He'd learned that Creeps often traveled in groups. "Besides, you know you'll always have friends here. They understand why you need to leave."

"I know. It's just... I always thought I would see the White Fang succeed, but in the end I guess the fight outlived me. You don't think they'll hold it against me?" He didn't want to abandon them, nor did he want to look like that either. Arthur could understand that, given how traitors had been viewed in Dutch's gang. But Tukson had gotten his licks in. He deserved to retire.

"I have it on good faith that they will send you off with a smile, my friend. You earned it anyway. Go open your bookshop, sell some stories. Just know that if you ever need us, we'll be there for ya." Another dark shape caught his attention, and he reminded himself that he was still on guard duty. "Now get on out of here. I got critters coming through, and you have a book to finish. I'll see ya at the party." He gave the Faunus one last smile and nod, then peered through his scope intently.

"Yeah, thanks Arthur. Be careful up here!" He heard Tukson's receding footsteps as he swept for more Grimm. Sure enough, a second Creep was coming in from the western side, just on the edge of his zone. The other guards were clearly content to see if he could hit it. His vision washed gold as time slowed down, and he proved just who was the best shot on the island.

"Gotcha, you little bastard." He pulled the trigger once more, and another foul creature met its end from afar.

Three hours later, his shift was taken over by another sniper named Riza. She was a blonde Faunus from Atlas, apparently former military, and he could make out a few feathers amid her carefully maintained blonde hair. She took his post and bade him good night, advising him to 'get Lady Khan to relax for once'. Arthur just tipped his hat and grinned as Famine trotted away. Back when he'd first taken the job from Ghira, the trip back home had taken barely fifteen minutes, ten if he hurried. With Kuo Kuana's perimeter reinforced, it now took him nearly half an hour to reach the guarded entrances and pass through. It was a testament to what he had worked so hard to bring to Menagerie, and he didn't mind the trip in the slightest. The guards had been somewhat distrustful when he'd first come on, but now most of him greeted him with smiles and open friendliness. There were a few holdouts that just despised humans, but Arthur couldn't help that. All he could do was smile, wave, and shoot monsters.

Most of the people in Kuo Kuana recognized him, if not because he was one of the few humans on Menagerie then because he was a frequent patron to the city's only bar, the Watering Hole. The owners had caught some flak at first for the name, but their defense had been a humorous one. _I've never seen a dive that wasn't one, and if they're gonna call us animals, we'll drink like animals!_ Despite the husband's spirited defiance, his wife made sure the patrons behaved. Kuo Kuana's police force had better things to deal with than drunks and bar brawls.

When Arthur reached the secluded path that led to Sienna's bungalow, it occurred to him that he had no idea how to get ready for a celebration without tipping her off. Sienna was no fool, and if he started digging formal clothing out she'd pin him to a wall until he squealed. But all of his things were in her house, so maybe he could enlist the others to draw her out while he stole his clothes. The different possibilities ran through his mind as he hitched Famine to a tree, patting the horse on his neck. He crossed the yard at a leisurely pace and walked up onto the porch, his boots thumping loudly on the wooden planks.

"Sienna?" He called. "You home?" When there was no answer, he inserted the key she had given him and turned the knob. The door opened almost with a slight whine, the hinges creaking gently as he stepped inside. The living room was first and foremost in the home, with a special mat set to one side exclusively for shoes. Seeing Sienna's boots right next to where he usually placed his own, Arthur could only wonder why she hadn't answered. He hadn't actually slept on the couch but for a few times, as Sienna did have a guest room. The couch itself had a dark wood frame with off white cloth cushions on it, and it sat next to a dark mahogany tea table. Both were low to the ground, lower than Arthur was used to, but it was apparently expected for visitors to sit on their knees at tables such as this. Because Arthur was the most extreme case of foreigner Sienna had ever met, she had decided against asking him to sit in such a way.

The rest of the living room consisted of a darker hard wood floor and was painted a calming cream color, not light enough to be considered feminine, but not so dark as to clash with the furniture. A simple fan sat above the table and was the same color. He'd seen Sienna turn it on, and it would spin on its own until it built up enough of a breeze to cool the room. The wonders of technology. A few other cloth chairs sat against the wall and the window, and a small white rug sat underneath the tea table. A few other homes that he had seen had also put huge scroll-like devices in their living rooms and watched the news, something like the moving picture show in Saint Denis. Sienna said that she didn't consider the service necessary, that it 'dulled the mind'. As if Arthur could make heads or tails of it anyway.

He walked through the living room and into a narrow hallway, painted the same color and with two doors on the right and one on the left. A bathroom at the end of the hall had a shower, toilet, and sink. The two doors on the right were a bed room and a workshop of sorts, whereas the one on the left was Sienna's bedroom. He stopped at the left hand door and knocked, expecting her to be changing or doing something equally expected.

"Sienna!" He called again. No answer. Figuring maybe she was out back, it gave him ample time to change into his formal outfit. Arthur shrugged and turned around to enter his room. There wasn't a lot of furniture in his room, only a full length mirror, a double bed with white sheets, a wooden chest at the foot of the bed, and two dressers along the inside wall. The outer wall had a window with white wooden blinds, and a single lamp provided light for him at night. Arthur stepped inside and opened the chest, shutting the door behind him.

Thirty minutes later, he was appropriately dressed for a formal affair. He had chosen to wear a charcoal town paragon hat with a red ring around the crown, his white french dress shirt, and a crimson faced vest with golden buttons. He wore his black necktie in a half Windsor knot, and his charcoal gray shotgun coat that he'd purchased in Saint Denis. He wore matching pleated slacks and some dark leather suspenders, and he traded his alligator fowlers for black wing tipped dress shoes. Arthur trimmed his beard to just a few inches and eliminated any stray hairs and combed his hair back, hoping that he was at least somewhat presentable. He kept his black gambler's belt and holsters, but left the bandolier behind. It was a formal event in a friendly city, so the chances of attack were miniscule.

Arthur stood in front of the mirror and fixed his tie, looking one last time for anything out of place. Content that he had managed to look like an actual human being for once, Arthur checked the old Reutlinger pocket watch. Six forty five. If he was going to bring Sienna with him, he needed to make sure she was ready too.

Arthur walked out of his room and fixed his coat, buttoning it twice to remind himself that it was a formal affair and his guns needed to remain in their holsters. He stepped forward and knocked on Sienna's door once more, this time with a little more force.

"Sienna?" He called, and was surprised to find the door unlatched. It swung inward a few inches, and Arthur found himself in a dilemma. If she was outside and found him poking around in her room, his nice outfit would be covered in mud and sticks from the beating he would receive. However, if she was somehow asleep in the early evening, it would be his responsibility to bring her with him. Why they'd kept it a secret from her, he had no idea.

Hesitantly peeking in, Arthur was both relieved and not to find that it was option two. Sienna was clad in her workout clothing, her feet wrapped and the skin tight shorts and top covering her striped form. She had fallen into bed and seemingly gone to sleep immediately. Her mattress was identical to the one in his room, though she had a little more space. Three dressers and a half mirror sat against the interior wall, and the two windows on the outer wall were closed and blinded. An ornate outfit hung from a white closet door, a more intricately decorated version of her usual wear. There also appeared to be a red shawl or cape that connected at the back, but it was difficult for Arthur to tell just by looking.

Stepping forward and exercising as much care as possible, he called her name once more. The steady, rhythmic breathing coming from the Faunus never changed, and he cursed her exhaustion. Whatever Ghira had put her through to prepare for leadership, it had taken a lot out of her. He stood at her bed, crouching down to look less like a looming stalker, even though that point was moot anyway if she woke up the wrong way. Determined to prevent that particular misunderstanding, he grabbed her shoulder and shook her gently.

Bad move.

Given that Sienna excelled at hand to hand combat, it was only too expected that her arm snatch his own from her shoulder and for her to roll over, dragging him onto the bed to follow his arm. Her back pressed against his chest as she used as much leverage as she could, pressing against him and angled his elbow in a painful way. He cursed as his wrist was torqued painfully and his arm trapped between her chest and armpit, her hands grasping his fingers and pulling them into opposite directions. His added weight and pained curses brought a little more awareness to the Faunus, and the pressure on his fingers lessened as she realized exactly where she was and who she had a hold of.

"Arthur?" Her voice was sleepy, but there was an edge of danger there. "Why are you in my bed?" Uh. Well, this was awkward. Trying to keep the heat from his face, Arthur cleared his throat and pulled futilely on his arm. She still had not released it.

"I tried to wake you up and you turned me into a pretzel. We have to meet the Belladonna family in less than an hour, so give me my arm back, woman!" He pulled again, and this time was rewarded with his limb. As Arthur rubbed his wrist to ease the soreness, Sienna sat up and looked over at her scroll on the bedside table next to her. The time read 6:54, and her eyes widened in panic.

"Oh no! I was supposed to be dressed already!" She stood up and onto the floor, her wrapped feet darting past Arthur as the sudden motion made him lose his balance and fall back onto the bed. Struggling free for a second time, Arthur stood up and fixed his ruffled collar and lapels, clearing his throat and trying to forget the way she had made him tap out while she herself was asleep. Or the feeling of her warm body pressed to his...

"I'll be outside." He barked as she bustled around the room, getting out of her way while she grabbed all sorts of different things from their respective places. Sienna didn't seem the type for makeup or eye shadow, but every woman had a few things that she wanted to change. Putting as much space between himself and the rushing Faunus as he could, Arthur decided that now was the perfect time to brush Famine's coat until the damned horse glowed. He did exactly that too, taking care to avoid getting any dirt on his coat or vest. Twenty minutes passed as he heard thumping and cursing within the house, all the while he made damned sure to erase the image of a sleeping Sienna Khan from his mind. She'd been so peaceful, wrapped up in her sheets without a care in the world. It was something that he realized would be hard to forget, whether he wanted to or not.

"I'm ready." Gone was the note of panic in her voice, replaced by her usual calm confidence. When Arthur turned around, Sienna was wearing the ornate dress he had seen hanging up. Now that he could actually see it on her, the outfit made more sense. A wide padded belt wrapped around her middle, trimmed in crimson and white and colored black. Her robe fully came down to her calves instead of her thighs, and the inside was colored white instead of black. The slits near her hips were absent as well, restricting her movement but providing a more professional image. Her shoulders were bared by her white top, but the crimson shawl he had seen was wrapped around the back of her neck and joined to her dress in three places by small gold rings. Her hair was brushed and controlled from the bedraggled state she had been in previously, and her eyes shone in the dimming light of the evening.

Arthur got caught staring too.

"Sorry about all that." She apologized, clearly more frustrated with herself than him. "I was training with Ghira today, and I must have been more tired than I had first thought." Arthur nodded, accepting her apology gracefully and rubbing his face.

"If that's how you sleep, I don't know how anyone can sneak up on you. I didn't mean to come in on you like that, though." He shrugged helplessly. "My bad." A little color dusted her face, and she punched him in the shoulder hard enough to shift his weight. He chuckled nonetheless.

"It's fine, I suppose." She sighed, then looked back toward the path. "I hope we're not late. The dinner is a private affair, but tardiness does not become of a leader." So, they had at least invited her to something. Given how prone they were to gossip, Arthur was amazed that anyone had managed to keep the celebration a secret from her. Then again, he'd only found out that same day, so maybe they were actually trying this time. Shaking his head and fixing his hat, Arthur held out an arm expectantly. Sienna gave him an amused look, then glanced back at his trusty steed.

"No Famine today? I thought cowboys rode their horses everywhere." She took the arm nonetheless, looping hers through and walking alongside him as they headed down the path. Arthur shook his head even as the horse whinnied, apparently as surprised at being left behind as Sienna had been.

"Sometimes you just gotta do things yourself. If I'm gonna escort a lady, then he can stay home." She snorted at the title of lady, and Arthur could only chuckle as well. "Besides, who knows what he would get up to." Knowing Famine, the horse would be on top of the mansion by the night's end.

"I suppose I must trust a gunslinger to escort me home then." She sighed dramatically, knowing full well which of them was the more dangerous. Arthur was confident in his abilities, especially with the promises the gunsmith had made, but Sienna could do more as she was now than he was capable of fully armed. She was escorting him, not the other way around. Still, they were a matching pair, and when they found the main street, Arthur saw that they were not the only ones on the way to Ghira's palace. Pairs and groups of equally dressed Faunus chatted quietly and walked up the hill. The police force was out in full uniform as well, with multiple officers standing at strategic points along the street. There was little chance of any mischief, but it was a good time to show off their dress uniforms. Sienna looked around in surprise, then closed her eyes and shook her head.

"A private dinner. I can't believe I fell for that." She gave Arthur a questioning look. "Did you know about this?" He could have played the fool, but he knew her policy on honesty well enough by now. Besides, what harm was there?

"Only found out today. If Tukson hadn't said something, I wouldn't have known at all." He shoved his shoulder against her lightly, enough to push her over a step but not imbalance her entirely. "Guess they _can_ keep a secret if they try." She nudged him back, reminding him not for the first time that she had strength to spare. The doors to Ghira's new home were opened wide to accommodate the guests, and Arthur found himself wondering how Sienna had missed such a gathering. When he whispered the question, the woman turned her head with a huff.

"He did this on purpose. Every day, he's been bringing me to the same room to go over leadership. Everything from ethics to wages to hand to hand combat. He was deliberately distracting me from this." She was indignant, but Arthur knew it wasn't serious. If what Tukson said was true, then half of this party was in Sienna's honor. He could tell she had a feeling for what was to come, and she nodded and waved to the people that recognized her with a genuine smile. A few people seemed surprised to find Sienna Khan with a human on her arm, but most had gotten used to his presence. As for Arthur? He was walking into the biggest building on Menagerie, invited to a party celebrating a new Chieftain, and he had Sienna Khan on his arm. Col O'Driscoll rising from the grave couldn't ruin this for him.

"Looks like quite the party. I almost feel out of place." At her pointed look, Arthur shook his head. "Not like that. The last ball I attended was for an Italian crime boss, and we wound up killing him. An outlaw like me doesn't get invited to things like this." He waved to another group of Faunus that stood near the door. They passed through the first set of doors and entered a small foyer, where a few more guards stood with a small Faunus girl in a basic set of dark red robes. Arthur expected a guest list at first, until he realized that this was a part where everyone was invited. A host with a guest list would have been a moot point.

"May I take your coat sir?" The young girl stepped forward, her cheeks covered with scaly patches. Arthur stepped away and removed his hat and coat and handed them over, then looked at Sienna. When she returned it, he realized that her outfit wasn't meant to come apart. When the young girl saw that Sienna Khan herself stood before her, her exposed skin changed to a deep blue. It surprised Arthur at first, and it took a while to come to him: chameleon Faunus. _Well don't that just beat all._ He mused. He offered her a grin to show he meant no harm, but the starstruck young girl was focused solely on Sienna.

"Illia, it's rude to stare." Sienna chastised with a wink, and the young girl literally turned pink with embarrassment. She stepped back and bowed anxiously.

"S-sorry, Lady Khan! I meant no offense." The young girl apologized profusely. She looked up in confusion when Sienna chuckled.

"It is fine, Amitola. Thank you for doing a wonderful job." Sienna walked past and took Arthur's arm once more, leaving young Illia blushing profusely and trying to get her pigmentation under control. Arthur guided the tigress to the next set of doors, but he couldn't resist teasing a little.

"Someone has a fan." He whispered, and she ignored him with a roll of her eyes. Leave it to Arthur to poke and prod. Past the second set of doors, a large atrium opened up and took up a majority of the building, from what Arthur could see. Several long tables at along the walls and in the center of the room, with another table set perpendicular to the others in the back. Quite a few people were already seated, while still more meandered through the room in small groups. Twenty feet above them and clinging to a ladder, Blake Belladonna was still in her working pants and shirt and trying to wire something into a speaker. The young girl waved when she saw Sienna and Arthur, then went right back to anxiously connecting the sound system. It seemed that even Ghira had delays.

Besides the cat on the ladder, everything else looked prepared. A small table in the corner provided light beverages and snacks, though the main course would come through later. Seating appeared to be open, though Arthur was certain that the head table had reserved seats for the Belladonna family and Sienna. Arthur doubted that he'd have a seat up there, and wasn't sure he'd be comfortable if he had. There were a lot of eyes on Sienna and Ghira tonight, and Arthur didn't usually do well in the spotlight.

"Shall we find a seat?" Sienna offered, noticing how he scanned the room. She must have picked up on his apprehension and took the lead, guiding Arthur through the crowd of people. Quite a few stopped them and exchanged pleasantries, but thankfully Sienna was able to talk them down politely. It still took a few minutes to reach the back wall though. A small piece of folded paper stood in front of each chair, and Sienna Khan's name was proudly displayed next to Ghira Belladonna's. Arthur pulled the seat out for her and stood back, allowing her to sit and pushing her back in. There was no such seat for him, but Arthur stood nearby to keep her company.

"Quite the crowd tonight. Feel's like the whole island is here." Arthur said in mild disbelief. He'd been told that Kuo Kuana had some rocking parties, but seeing it was another thing altogether. Sienna, however, seemed more anxious than pleased at the number of people still entering the room.

"No pressure, Arthur. It's not like I'll be leading them or anything." She snarked, and Arthur chuckled in response. She was nervous, and rightfully so, but he knew just from looking around that there was nothing to worry about. The people here respected Sienna, sought her praise and had nothing but well wishes for her. And he knew for a fact that she cared deeply for all of them, even the outliers like Adam and the Lupin brothers. The Faunus were her people, and she would do everything in her power to help them. Tonight, that meant taking over the White Fang.

"Sienna! I see you received my invitation!" Ghira's deep voice was heard from the side, and Arthur turned to see the large man walking toward them from behind the table. Arthur barely got out of the way so that Sienna could stand once more, and they both shook Ghira's hand when offered. Just as it had been the last few times, his grip was absolutely crushing.

"Despite your best attempts to train me into a coma, yes." Sienna smirked, and Ghira laughed.

"The final lesson of leadership, I'm afraid. No matter how tired you are, there will always be more to do." He looked her up and down, though there was no hunger or lust in his eyes. Nor should there be, if his wife was to be judged. "You appear to haved learned well."

"I did have some help, I'm afraid." Sienna nodded toward Arthur. "Without my live in gunslinger, I'd likely still be recovering." The admission brought some color to her cheeks, and both Arthur and Ghira chuckled at her expense.

"I don't think Ghira would have left ya like that. He'd miss out on watching you twitch like caught mouse." Arthur jeered, and earned an elbow to his hip for the effort. He had to get his ribbing in now, though. Once the proceedings started, the professional Sienna would come out and he'd watch her be the hero that everyone thought she was. Hell, Arthur thought she was pretty amazing too.

"As much as I enjoy the small talk, I'm afraid we do have some business to discuss before the party really begins. Mr. Morgan, please enjoy the festivities. If you have need of anything, myself or Kali would be happy to help." Ghira dismissed him with a respectful nod, which Arthur returned. Before he left her side, he gave Sienna a reassuring squeeze.

"You got this, boss. I believe in ya." The woman took a deep breath and released it, then tried to return his confident smile.

"We made it this far. Now the hard part begins. Thank you Arthur." She patted his hand, and he left the two Faunus to discuss the big decision. Figuring it would be best to find a wall and a seat, Arthur skirted the wandering groups of people, nodding and greeting his way to the edge so that he could better navigate the room. Another set of double doors had been opened, and Arthur found himself in some kind of recreation room with more tables and a bar. A charcoal haired monkey Faunus stood behind the bar, polishing a glass and watching for any youngsters that might try to get into the alcohol. Truly, the Belladonnas were showing their appreciation by opening their home to their people.

"Can I help you sir?" The Faunus asked politely. Arthur stepped forward and let his eyes wander over the selection, though he didn't admit that most of the names eluded him. He knew Kentucky bourbon and Tennessee whiskey, but they had Atlesian Malt and Vacuan brandy here. Figuring the bartender knew best, Arthur waved a hand and set down some lien.

"Whatever is your favorite. It's a party after all." The man nodded and drew up a dark bottle, but he was moving too fast for Arthur to catch the label. While the man prepared a glass and poured, Arthur leaned against the bar with a grin. So far, everything was going alright. His friend was about to be made leader of a civil rights group, the people here didn't treat him like a mangy dog, and there were no Pinkertons, O'Driscolls, or Murfrees anywhere around to harass him and his. He could deliver the Relic in a few more weeks, then see about returning to America to undo Dutch's mess. There was plenty to do on the horizon, but now?

"Here you are sir. Mistralian Firewater." The bartender set a shot glass down, an amber liquid daring Arthur like a challenge. The gunslinger picked it up and sniffed it, detecting some cinnamon and maybe some whiskey.

"To peace and progress." Arthur toasted, and knocked it back.

* * *

The woods around Beaver Hollow were the bad kind of quiet. Normally, the forest was buzzing with life. Squirrels, chipmunks, opossums, and even the occasional deer or four made the woods a lively place in day or night. Now, however, the shouting and arguments in Dutch's camp had long since scared away the wildlife. Summer sat in a tree above the camp, watching them all with a tired sigh. Saddened by the news of Arthur's death and demoralized by the constant bad luck, some of Dutch's gang had up and left in the wee hours of the night. Mr. Pearson, Karen, Uncle, and Mary Beth had all vanished, too loyal to Dutch to turn traitor but too afraid to stay with him and die. The Pinkertons were putting pressure on Dutch, and from what she could see Micah was the only one in camp allowed in their leader's tent. She watched him prowl around, poking at everyone's insecurities and doing his best to create friction between the remaining members. Charles, John, Abigail, and Sadie had taken one side of the arguments, sticking together and doing their best to protect young Jack. On the other side of it, Javier, Bill, and Micah were steadfast in their loyalty to Dutch, and the man himself had taken notice. Charles was going out nearly every day in order to catch enough food to eat, but Javier or Bill would go with him to make sure that he returned. Javier just hunted and helped as needed, but Bill's fear of Indians did not play well with Charles' mixed heritage. They'd threatened each others lives a few times already, but Dutch's heavy hand had prevented bloodshed so far. John was tasked with blowing up a bridge up in the Grizzlies. Summer had watched him leave, and she'd made sure to keep extra watch on Jack. The boy had a consistent cough that was unsettling, and she hated to think of where it might have come from.

Dutch himself was behaving like a crazed man, storming around camp with feverish eyes and a constant snarl. He would shout randomly at Abigail or Ms. Grimshaw, and leave camp with Micah at all hours of the night. Summer watched him closer than anyone else, struggling to find the man that Arthur had respected so much. She hadn't seen any sign of him, however. Currently, she was watching for any sign that John was about to leave. Apparently, Abigail had mentioned something about the money Dutch had saved up. Summer's lip reading wasn't exactly up to snuff so she only got bits and pieces, but Abigail hinted at a large sum of money deep in the caves. That presented another dilemma, however. If Jack's persistent cough was TB, considering he'd followed Arthur around like a second father, then that money would do them no good in Vacuo. She could only open the path one more time without arousing suspicion, and Summer was hoping to keep that in reserve. Any more portals to another world, and Salem would notice. Honestly, Summer wasn't certain how the witch remained ignorant of the ruins' power given her apparent knowledge of history, but maybe the Kingdom that had created the gateway had fallen before Salem's rise to power. Either way, the Queen of the Grimm would kill Jack far faster than a case of Tuberculosis. And if she stayed to defend them, all the running to America would have been for nothing.

While Summer considered her options, the underbrush rustled with movement. The Huntress peered down silently, thanking the Gods that most people never looked up. Down below her, a bald man in a dark vest and pinstripe pants watched over the camp. If she could guess, Summer assumed that this was the illustrious Agent Milton. The man along with his partner, Agent Ross, had been harassing the Van der Linde gang since their days at Horseshoe Overlook. According to camp gossip and what little she could find out in Annesburg and Van Horn, the Pinkerton Detective Agency was under the employ of Leviticus Cornwall, a railroad magnate with a serious chip on his shoulder concerning Dutch Van der Linde. With the man himself directly beneath her, Summer had to agree that there was at least a professional reason for him to be there. Agent Milton was not very well liked by Arthur according to the gunslinger's journal, and he'd approached and threatened Arthur when the outlaw had taken Jack fishing. Summer may have left her own children behind in her husband's care, but she loved them dearly. Casually threatening kids was a good way to piss off Summer Rose.

Milton watched the Van der Linde camp intently, blissfully unaware of the very capable Huntress above him. He carried a small notebook with him, but the night was a little dark to be writing anything down. He still tried, likely to decipher later once he was further away from danger.

Milton scribbled and watched intently, cataloging the movements and interactions of the group. At first, that's all Summer thought he was doing and was content to let him. Once the Marstons were gone, it wouldn't be her problem anyway. What happened thirty minutes into his watch, however, changed her mind quickly.

During his vigil, Milton's attention was attracted by the sound of footsteps nearby, but he turned to face them so calmly that they could only have been suspected. Summer's eyes widened in the darkness when none other than Micah Bell stepped out of the shadows, climbing up the hill as quietly as he could. John was on watch near the entrance to the camp and Charles wasn't due back from hunting for another hour, which meant that Micah was relatively unwatched in camp.

"What else do you have for me?" Milton asked insistently, and Micah balked as if offended. As Summer continued to listen, however, she saw that he was simply being sarcastic.

"Oh yes, pump those teats, Agent. See what else you can get from me." He threw his hands up in the air. "What more do you want from me? The gang's split right down the middle, and Marston and his little whore are talking about making a run for it. The veteran and the greaser are sticking with Dutch for now." Milton wrote down what Micah said, tapping his pen against the notebook incessantly as he did so.

"What about Morgan? He's not been seen in weeks." Milton demanded. Summer knew the truth, but nonetheless she did not enjoy the greasy smile that spread across Micah's face.

"Black Lung finally died, according to Adler. He was supposed to be busting Marston out of the pen with her, but apparently that little cold he had was more permanent than he acted." Micah punctuated his explanation with a glob of spit hitting the tree next to him. "Dutch has been real broke up about it. It's part of why everything is going to hell for him. He don't even notice when I leave."

"This is my chance to bury Van der Linde. We'll award you the bounty for Morgan, but I need Dutch and Marston alive. If you can convince them to work with you, I'll pardon Escuella and Williamson." Milton have Micah a pointed look. "Can you draw him out here, separate him from the rest?" Micah rubbed his chin, thinking for a moment before he shrugged.

"He's been so paranoid the past few weeks that he thinks the whole gang is out to get him. I can probably lure him out here, but it will only happen once. What about the rest of them, Smith, Grimshaw, and the negro woman?" He smiled another venomous grin. "What about little Marston?" If Milton was unsettled by the absolute monster of a man he was dealing with, he didn't show it. Up above them, Summer's mouth flooded with bile. She detested them both, but Micah Bell was proving to be every bit of a snake that Arthur had professed.

"Casualties happen in arrests like this all the time. Once the lead starts flying, Dutch and Marston are the only ones we need alive. Do what you feel you need to." He allowed dismissively. Summer had to actually take a breath when she heard that, and missed the next few sentences in the conversation. Micah wanted to kill little Jack? For what, some petty revenge because Abigail wouldn't sleep with him? The very notion of it made her blood boil, and she knew now how this was going to play out.

The two men never knew what hit them. One second they were plotting the demise of the Van der Linde gang, the next they were on the ground. Summer dropped from her perch and drove a foot into each man's back, driving their bodies to the ground and the breath from their lungs. Micah reacted more quickly than Milton, going for his guns, but neither could draw fast enough to stop Summer from kicking them in the face. Summer used a little bit of Aura too, enjoying the jarring feeling of a hard kick right to the face. When they both slumped to the ground, she looked down at them with barely concealed disgust. No matter how cut off it was from Salem, this country was full of unsavory people. Were it not for people like Arthur and Sadie and the Marstons, she'd have taken her chances with Salem's forces. Summer stooped down and picked the two men up, wincing at the prospect of even touching such terrible people. Still, this was her chance to free the Marston family from Dutch's grip. She was running out of time, anyway.

Jumping down into the clearing wasn't really advisable, so she settled for walking in through the southern path. Summer considered waiting until Charles returned, since he was friendly to Arthur and the Marstons, but she couldn't reliably keep her two prisoners unconscious quietly. Hopefully he was close by, because if the shooting started she would need all the help she could get. John was on watch above the path, leaning up against a tree and surveying the land. She whistled to get his attention, but he was already looking her way. His eyes bulged out to almost comical proportions when he saw the woman that had broken him out of Sisika Penitentiary with one man over his shoulder and another under her arm. He dropped down to her level, sliding across the moss, but thankfully kept his repeater down.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He rasped, examining the two men in her custody. "Is that...Micah?! And Agent Milton?" Summer nodded once, her usual playful smirk absent as she pointed her chin towards the camp.

"This is how you get out, John. We don't have a lot of time, but if Dutch is too preoccupied dealing with Micah's betrayal, you and your family can slip away." She shifted Micah's body on her shoulder so she could pull a map free from her pocket. It was a detailed survey of the hills around Beaver Hollow, and she had marked the ruins she had used before with Arthur with a small 'X'. "Meet me here, and I can take you where Dutch will never find you." John looked at the map, hesitant to touch it, then back up at her. He did it a few more times, then reluctantly took the paper from her.

"How can you know that? There's nowhere that Dutch won't follow a traitor. Even if I never done nothing against him, he'll be after us." John questioned, and Summer decided that enough was enough. They were about to find out anyway, and she needed them as cooperative as possible. Besides, if she had her way, Micah and Milton would be dead before the night's end.

"Because Arthur's not dead, and Jack soon will be if you don't take my help." She admitted, steel conviction in her words as she looked John Marston dead in the eye. His mouth fell open, but his eyes hardened as he gripped his repeater even tighter.

"You're lying." Summer shook her head, but John was already backing up. "There's no way he survived. If he really had TB, then he's long gone by now. And why would Jack be in danger? He just has a cough, and..." Realization set in, and John gritted his teeth. "No, no no no. That can't be right!"

"I don't know for certain, but I know he's showing symptoms. I was watching your camp when these two had their meeting. I can't help him unless I take you to Arthur." She started walking past him, and this time he did nothing to stop her. "You may want to see how this ends. No matter what we do here, this is the end of the Van der Linde gang." She said it with sad finality, but her expression was cold. Contrary to her time as a Huntress, she didn't see the gang as evil; well, most of them anyway. In the changing times of America, these were the people that were trying to get by. The government was unreliable and the frontier full of dangerous and selfish people. People like Micah and Agent Milton, for example. There were bad people on Remnant as well, but Summer was confident that the Marstons could thrive there.

"Alright." She heard him fall in step behind her. "You still owe me an explanation, but I guess we have to do this now. I'll get Abigail and Jack packed up." He got ahead of her, not quite sprinting but definitely moving with a purpose. She considered stalling to give him more time, but half the reasons he was even setting foot in camp at all was to distract Dutch and the others so John's family could escape. With that in mind, Summer marched forward.

There was already a clamor in camp as John hustled around his horse, and Summer could hear Abigail demanding answers from him. Sadie stood with Tilly and Miss Grimshaw across the clearing from the Marstons, and appeared unaware of what was happening. When she saw Summer, however, her hand dropped to her pistol as she nodded slowly. Thankfully the man had a brain in his head and quieted her down, but by the time she was on board with the plan Dutch had come out of his tent to see what the ruckus had been.

From Summer's new perspective, Dutch Van der Linde had definitely seen better days. His pristine clothes were sullied and muddy and clearly had been worn for days at a time. His skin was pale and his face gaunt, thinned by both stress and undernourishment. His eyes were red and beady, and passed over her more like a beast than a man. Summer walked straight into the middle of camp, stopping just in front Dutch. For a long time, no one said anything, and the two just stared each other down. Summer didn't want to be the first to speak, but Dutch's hand twitched a few times too many towards his holster.

"Mr. Van der Linde." She said simply. "I think you have a rat problem." To emphasize her point, she dumped Micah and Milton beside each other in the dirt. Micah landed with a pained groan, but Milton remained silent. She must have hit him harder than she had thought. Dutch looked down at the two downed men, and she could already see the anger and rage once he recognized them both.

"What...is...this?" He demanded, his voice low and dangerous as he stared at the Huntress in disbelief. Summer didn't blame him, considering all the trials the man had gone through. The added bonus of a small woman bodily throwing his second in command and a Pinkerton agent onto the ground in front of him didn't make things any clearer.

"The last act of a dying man. Arthur Morgan sends his regards." She stepped away from Micah and the agent, desperate to be rid of their stench. "Mr. Bell here has been feeding information to the Pinkertons for some time now, and he's been planning to set you up." Summer kicked the man she spoke of in the stomach, bringing him back into the land of the living as he coughed and sputtered. "He wanted to lure you into the woods so that the Pinkertons could capture you, and John too. He wanted to kill Abigail and Jack, and possibly Tilly too. And Agent Milton was going to spare him from all criminal charges." Dutch looked down at Micah for a long time, a storm of emotions crossing his face. When he looked up at her, however, all she saw was sorrow.

"Arthur sent you?" He asked. "Arthur is dead. My boy is dead, and you're telling me he sent you?!" Dutch barked desperately, trying to find the sense in any of this. He'd been betrayed by everyone, and now this strange woman brought Micah and a Pinkerton into his camp and accused her of colluding? And Arthur had sent her?

"He saved my life, a few weeks ago. His last dying wish was that John Marston and his family get away from you." Summer brushed her cloak aside to reveal her blade. Dutch twitched as she rested her hand on it. "I'm here to make sure that happens. Don't make this worse than it has to be." Dutch's face purpled, and the sound of Abigail's horse attracted his attention. John had loaded up Abigail and Jack onto her horse and was pulling his own around, clearly ready to leave at a moment's notice. The scarred outlaw stopped when he saw Dutch staring, however.

"So, you're just going to leave." Dutch simmered. His eyes narrowed as he flared his palm, dropping it down to hover just above his revolver. Behind him, Javier and Bill emerged from the tent he'd been in. "You're going to abandon me like everyone else, huh John?" Summer tensed as he moved, flaring her Aura in response. But the shot that pierced the night did not come from Dutch, but right behind her. Pain blossomed in Summer's head as a round drilled into her skull, her Aura the only thing saving her from an instant lobotomy. It was still enough to knock her off balance, and the follow up shot to her back hurt almost as much.

Spinning on instinct, her sword came free and remove Agent Milton's hand and pistol from his wrist, reversing the blade and severing his head on the return stroke. She moved like quicksilver, and stood over his beheaded body before anyone else could react. Apparently he had been faking his wound, but now there was no faking death. What was worse, everyone in camp had seen her take a shot to the head and survive. John and Abigail took the gunshots as an indicator to run, but Dutch, Miss Grimshaw, and Tilly were all struck dumb by the invincible woman before them. Javier swallowed visibly, and Bill cursed loudly. Neither drew their weapons, though she could tell that they wanted to.

"You're a monster." Dutch stammered, stepping back and drawing his weapon with a shaky hand. "Arthur couldn't have sent you! You're not human!" He fired once, off target, but Summer reacted quick enough to deflect the round anyway. In the same motion, she cut Micah's side wide open. The man woke from his stupor and curled into himself, cursing and crying out in pain as blood instantly stained his black leather coat. Dutch fired again in response to the traitor's cries, and succeeded only in putting another hole in the deceased Agent Milton's head. Summer ran forward before he could squeeze off the third, and Dutch couldn't react in time before she laid a shallow gash across the back of his head, forcing him to drop his gun. Dutch staggered back from her, fear evident on his pale face as he tripped on a stray rock. She slowly stalked forward, her eyes on his second gun, and was already moving when Dutch reached for it. Another slice parted his holster and dumped the pistol onto the ground. It also carved a fair bit of flesh from the man's palm.

With both hands injured, Dutch could only slump forward and hold the wounded limbs up out of the dirt. Summer kept her blade on hand, but she no longer pointed it Dutch's way. She didn't need to. He was broken, if not by Arthur's fate and everyone else leaving him, then by Micah's betrayal. Dutch Van der Linde was a sad, broken man.

"Fine." He growled. "Fine! Go on, then! Run like the scavengers you are! I don't need such disloyalty in my presence!" Summer let him rage, content to merely sit and make sure he didn't hurt anyone else. Another gunshot rang out behind her, and she stepped to the side to see what had happened. She found Sadie standing over Micah's bleeding corpse, a fresh hole burned into his temple as she holstered her revolver.

"That was for my home, you twisted animal!" She spat onto his body, then walked away toward the directions the Marstons had gone. "Javier, Bill! We gotta get outta here before the rest of the Pinkertons show up!" If Milton had been discovered missing, then Beaver Hollow was about to be crawling with the law. Standing over Agent Milton's dead body was a good way to get shot in those circumstances, and not even Summer could take rounds forever. Bill and Javier exchanged uncertain looks as Sadie mounted her horse, but eventually some kind of unspoken agreement passed between them.

"We're getting Dutch out of here." Javier said firmly, stepping toward to get between his leader and Summer if necessary. She made no move to do anything else to the broken man, but Bill looked ready to step in as well.

"They'll kill you all." Summer stated matter-of-factly. "You realize that." Javier swallowed hard and kept his hand on his pistol.

"No disrespect, ma'am." He said seriously. "But we'll find our own way out. Can't have you killing all of us." Beside him, Bill racked the slide of his shotgun in warning.

"Best you clear on out of here, witch. It only gets violent if you stay." He didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell at beating her, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try anyway. He and Javier were both ready to die for Dutch. Their faith in him was that strong. They were that blind. _I'm only here for the Marstons._ Summer reminded herself. _The rest of them are on their own._ Summer could year yelling coming from the forest; Sadie's prediction of more Pinkertons seemed to be accurate. Slowly and deliberately, Summer sheathed her sword, and gave Dutch one last look. His eyes were full of confusion and terror as he stared right back, and she just shook her head. What a pitiful sight. His paranoia had driven everyone from him, and he was no longer the honorable man that Arthur had loved and respected. Summer turned and strode purposefully out of the clearing and into the forest, fully expecting a shot in the back. Considering what had happened to the last man that had pull the trigger on her, she didn't blame them when it never came.

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**A/N: **Arthur's weapons are on the back burner until next chapter, simply because I wanted to get these two plot points out of the way first. I won't be doing swords or a rifle that turns into two pistols, even though that sounds really cool. Arthur's been using wheel guns his whole life, and his new weapons will reflect that style. He will have one newer style weapon, and the rest will simply receive Dust-compatible upgrades. No need to mess with his already efficient system. Let me know what you guys think and as always, have a fantastic day.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** Micah and Milton are dead, so obviously all the problems in America are handled, right? Well, no. Still I had to shift focus to Remnant for the next good bit simply because I couldn't come up with content that felt believable. If I put Summer into the showdown where Arthur lost to Micah in canon, Summer would wipe the floor with everyone involved. It was her bread and butter while she was a Huntress, and the only reason Micah beat Arthur was because Arthur was pulling an Itachi and dying mid fight. Summer Rose anywhere near her best against a low down snake like Micah? Please. Also, we've broken 200 favorites and 100 reviews! You guys are awesome, no matter what unkind things I say about you when I'm up at three in the morning trying to work out how to make this story worth reading. In honor of the milestone, I changed the crotchety old gunsmith I wanted to use for Arthur's weapons into something a bit more referenced. Despite my firm decision to remain an Xbox player, there are absolute gems on the Playstation side of things. Disclaimer: I do not own God of War or any of its characters. While I'm at it, I don't own Red Dead Redemption or RWBY, either.

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**Chapter 10**

The floor was cold. Right now, cold was good. It felt cool and calming against his face, and blocked out the buzzing in his head. It felt like a whole nest of hornets had crawled in through his ear and were currently having a bar fight in his brain. Or something like that. Arthur pawed at the ground and groaned, trying desperately to remember when the night had left him on the floor. He hadn't even drunk that much...had he? Whatever was in that Firewater had a KICK. Arthur groaned and sat up, struggling to contain his nausea as the world righted itself once again. He felt hot, but at the same time the wooden floor felt like ice. It was also not a floor he recognized, but there'd be time for that later. Arthur groaned again and cradled his head, trying in vain to shut out the lights that seared his eyes and scorched his brain. Even with his palms pressed into his eye sockets, the burning light continued to glare at him from inside of his head.

"Holy Mother Mary..." Arthur whispered, and his own words echoed a million times over in tune with the God awful pounding in his head. He reached around for his satchel, hoping at least for some hair of the dog, but the little bag was nowhere to be found. Nether was his gun belt, upon further inspection. That realization did wonders to punch through his hangover to end all hangovers, but Arthur's gut still rumbled when he stood up. Upon opening his eyes again, he blinked rapidly to clear his blurry vision. But what he could see told him he was in a room with a view. A balcony, if he was guessing right. With more blinking came clarity, and Arthur was soon looking out over Menagerie. The sun was still rising, and the sky was a wonderful shade of orange. A few clouds came in from the ocean, providing a brilliant backdrop that made him wish he had a camera. And wasn't about to hurl.

"Urk." Arthur's hand covered his mouth as he looked around desperately, and a sliding door to his right became his main focus. Stumbling forward, he less opened the door and more threw it to the side in search of the toilet. He found it in the corner, and only barely reached the bowl before fire and stinky brimstone climbed out of his stomach and threw itself into the water. He retched three, four times without reprieve, though the last one yielded nothing more than a single string of saliva. He wiped his mouth with a groan, adding a seared throat to his list of ailments, then struggled to stand. He stayed over the toilet for a few minutes, just in case his stomach wasn't quite done with its rebellion yet. When nothing else came up, he flushed the toilet and wiped it down with the convenient little waste paper roll next to the sink. Seemed kind of a waste for the roll to be so big if you were only gonna use it one time, but who was he to judge?

Now that his stomach had accomplished its business for the foreseeable future, Arthur's head was finally starting to clear up. He sighed heavily and wandered back out of the bathroom, doing his best to piece together the previous night. His memory failed him more often than not, though he did get brief glimpses...

_"... an' it ain't like ah did it on purpose, I jes couldn't help it, ya know?" He swigged the bottle he had gripped firmly in his hand, the awkward little girl under his arm doing everything in her power to escape without seeming rude. "An your pa is such a nice, nice guy. I don't know why Sienna can't work with the feller, but what do I knows? I jes shoot the bad guys. You ever shoots any bad guys?" Blake Belladonna shook her head vehemently, trying to duck under his arm to escape both the impromptu confession and the repugnant booze breath that escaped his mouth._

_ "An another thing, how come it's the cats that are in charge? Like, are they just geared that way, or is it coincidensh?"_

"Oh, I've made a real mess of it, I just know it." Arthur groaned, but the rest of the night did not come to mind immediately. He hadn't planned on getting black out drunk. Hell, he hadn't even planned on getting buzzed! All he'd done was ask for one drink. That bartender had set him up real good, and were it not for the pounding in his head and the hole in his memory, he'd have already gone after the son of a bitch. How had the rest of the dinner gone? Did he go and embarrass Sienna, or worse, ruin her chances of becoming the Leader of the White Fang?

Half an hour passed as Arthur laid on the bed proper, only standing to drink water and look outside. He hadn't tried the door yet because he wasn't recuperated, but with a little more time he'd be able to start snooping around. Just five more minutes...

"Uh...mister Morgan?" The voice came from outside, and Arthur couldn't quite place it at first. His mind was still slow and sluggish, and the only thing he could tell was that the voice was female. She sounded familiar, but his head wasn't quite on straight just yet.

"Yeah?" He sounded rough, and raising his voice only helped bring his nausea back.

"Dad said to come get you, but he wasn't sure if you would be well enough to have breakfast. Are you feeling okay?" Oh, right. Ghira's daughter. What was her name again? Betty? Blaine?

"He was right about that. Still, you wouldn't have any aspirin, would you? I ain't feelin' so great." The door opened slightly, and he saw pale fingers push it open just enough for a yellow eye to peek in. Arthur waved from the bed, still too tired to move, but it was enough to tell her that he was both clothed and not painting the toilet. Yet, anyway. The girl opened the door a little wider to step in, though she clearly wasn't going any further than she had to. In her other hand, however, was a miraculous little bottle of pain relievers.

"Dad said you'd be feeling bad. You were a little...out of sorts last night." She winced, clearly trying not to insult him while also wanting to speak the truth. Ah, the uncertainty of youth. Sienna were standing there, she'd probably have already started lecturing him for letting a drink get the better of him.

"Yeah, I feel like I was. Appreciate the medicine, though." Blake! That was her name. "You're a hero in my book, Blake." He reached up and took the pills from her hand, even as the girl herself shrank back into the hallway. If his scattered memories were anything to go by, he'd made a nuisance of himself to more than just the teenager standing at the door. Nothing else came to him, just a general sense of wrongness that he couldn't shake.

"Uh, sure. You're welcome, I guess." She stepped back outside with a haste he couldn't quite fault her for. "Will you be joining us for breakfast? Mom made eggs and bacon, but I understand if you aren't feeling up to it." At first, the prospect of food positively repulsed him, but Arthur knew better than to trust that initial reaction. On top of that, he couldn't afford to snub the people that he may have offended, especially when they let him sleep in their home.

"Yeah, I'll be down there in a minute. Just let me make myself presentable." Whatever Blake thought of that, she didn't share it. Instead, she closed the door and left him to his misery. Arthur groaned and slowly stood up, cursing the world for tilting so treacherously. When he was stable on his feet, the gunslinger stepped over to the window and braced against it, trying to use the morning sun to speed up his recovery. It helped a little.

"We;;, time to go see what all damage I did." He muttered groggily. Turning to the door, he rolled his shoulders back and made his decision; to face what would come like a man. He opened the door and stepped out into a quiet hallway, turned left and found the greatest foe he would ever face: the stairs. _Oh, is it too late to go back to bed?_ He grimaced at the pounding in his head, knowing full well it was about to get a hundred times worse. Still, he was Arthur goddamned Morgan, and he would not be defeated by a flight of stairs. His reputation was as stake here. So, with trembling hands, he slowly took the first step. His stomach roiled and rolled, and his head felt like it would explode. But he persevered, and took another step.

_Step._

_ Step._

_Step._

One at a time, Arthur vanquished his foes, fighting on for breakfast and glory. He kept up his pace, knowing full well that if he stopped he would collapse upon the stairs and never move again. It was a tempting release, but he had to make it. He had to know what damage he had done the previous night. If Sienna was going to filet him alive, Arthur deserved to know ahead of time. When he finally reached the bottom of the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked around. There were two halls that led in different directions, but he could hear muffling talking down the one on the left. Figuring that was as good a guess as any, he slowly trudged in that direction, occasionally placing a hand on the wall to steady himself. A right turn put him front of what he thought was the front door, but the layout was all wrong. Kali's laughter told him he was close though, and another corner led into what looked like the actual residence portion of the mansion.

A wide living room with two couches and a large mahogany table greeted him, its high ceiling bouncing the acoustics of Kali and Blake's conversation all over the house. A doorway in the back of the room seemed to lead to a kitchen of some kind, judging from the smell of eggs and bacon that wafted from that direction. Blake and her mother were seated at the table facing him, while Ghira sat with his back to the door. Arthur would have normally considered that strange, were it not for the fact that the man was the largest person he had ever met in his life.

"Oh, good morning Arthur." Kali noticed him first and greeted him with a glowing smile. Blake fell silent, obviously not quite as comfortable with the gunslinger as her parents, but Ghira's shifted to the side and patted a cushion in welcome.

"Morning to ya." He did his best not to stagger over to sit beside the man of the house, but judging by the sympathetic looks on his and Kali's faces, he didn't succeed. Still, the spread in front of him looked delicious, even if his rebellious stomach was digging its heels in for all that it was worth. Scrambled eggs, eggs over easy, buttered and cinnamon toast and crispy bacon was laid out on several ceramic plates. Kali and Blake looked to have some kind of hot tea in their cups, and Arthur recognized the smell of coffee coming from Ghira's. It was an awkward silence that filled the room as he sat down, and when he was finally able to look around the table, he felt a little better.

"How are you feeling, mister Morgan?" Ghira asked cordially, and Arthur did his best to smile. It came out as a pained grimace, but he tried anyway.

"Like I fell under a stampede." He replied honestly, wincing as his head continued to pound. "What's in that Firewater, anyway?" Ghira frowned at the name of the beverage, though he was quick to assure Arthur that he was not the source of his ire.

"Brendan likes to serve new people the hardest drinks around. I thought we had broken him of that particular habit, but it seems I was wrong. Do you remember how much of it you had?" More hazy memories floated around his mind, but nothing was definite or concrete. Arthur gave up on the mental gymnastics and shrugged.

"A bottle, I reckon. Now my head feels like a drum." Kali and Ghira both winced at his admission, and even young Blake whistled in surprise.

"Isn't that the stuff where you can only drink half of a bottle, Dad?" She asked, poleaxing her father and forcing him decide between defending his honor as a man and saying that he could drink more, or his responsibility as a father and admit the Firewater's danger. Sighing heavily, he went with the second option.

"It's a severely potent beverage. Most people can't handle more than a few shots without Aura to pick them up in the morning. I'm amazed you even remember as much as you do." Ghira sent his wife a withering glare when she giggled, and Blake could only roll her eyes at her mother's humor. It was that powerful? No wonder it had knocked him on his ass. Arthur was no lush, but he knew better than most what it took to get him hammered. One bottle of the stuff had apparently been enough to clean his clock.

"I'll be sure to avoid it next time." Arthur groaned, resting his forearms on the table. Ghira kindly set a cup of coffee and some sugar cubes next to Arthur's head, but the gunslinger didn't reach for it at first. He needed to rest after that laborious descent from the second floor.

"You certainly made quite a few friends last night. The guards seemed ready to escort you home, but it is beyond me how you got half of them to do the river dance with you." Ghira said, more astonished than upset. Arthur grunted in disbelief, though apparently it wasn't the first time he had turned a bunch of angry men into dancing fools.

"What can I say? It's a gift." Resolved that he wasn't going to feel any better, Arthur sat up and grasped the coffee gently. He sipped it slowly, mindful of its heat, then eventually up ended the whole thing. Ghira offered to pour him another, and Arthur gladly accepted it. The caffeine worked its magic, untying his mind from the nauseated knot it had wound itself into, and with the warmth came a modicum of stability. A few more memories from the previous night came to him, but he still had no idea how he had ended up in the Belladonnas' guest room.

"Not to mention that speech you gave about Sienna." Blake pointed out. Her parents gave the girl a pointed look, though her smug grin showed that she would not back down on this one. Kali's glare softened as she giggled once more, and Ghira could only roll his eyes. Arthur, however, felt his stomach drop to his toes.

"Speech?" He questioned. Blake was already fishing for her scroll as he looked around. "What speech?" Instead of explaining further, Blake handed her scroll over to her father, who in turn reluctantly passed it to Arthur. Holding it up to watch a video, Arthur already knew it wasn't going to go well just by how the first still looked.

He was stood up in front of the main table where Sienna and Ghira had sat last night. On the scroll, even from a distance, Arthur could tell that he had been well and truly sauced. A microphone was in one hand, and a bottle was in the other.

_"Thank you everyone! Tonight has been real fun! You folks are the best a man could ask for, I just wanna say..."_ His drunk self paused, as if thinking about what he actually wanted to say. _"People call you animals because you got extra parts, but believe me. You're all better people than the ones I've met out there in that world. You folks are kind and thoughtful, an' you got some mean liquor! But I think what made you folks so great is because everyone else is so terrible."_ Arthur could only groan as he watched himself upend the bottle in his hand. Behind him, Sienna tried to take the microphone from him as stealthily as she could, but even she couldn't be sneaky when he had a spotlight on him. Abandoning stealth in favor of a frontal attack, Sienna offered a nervous smile to the crowd before she came to his side. Her arm came across his front as she tried in vain to snatch the mic, and he moved his own out of the way. When she came around to the other side of him, he stepped away and brought it up to his face once more.

_"An' I'd be just as bad as the rest of them people if it weren't for my friend Sienna Khan. Now folks, I know she seems scary at times, but I don't knows anybody who care more about the Fau-uh, the Fan, you folks." _He stumbled over his words, and was only held up on his swaying legs by the tiger Faunus trying desperately to steal the amplifying tool from his hand. _"She's a beautiful woman, and I'll fight any man or -hic!- woman that says otherwise! I can't think of no one better for the White Tooth."_

Sienna became more insistent even as her face grew red, and he could hear Blake snickering on the recording. The people around her where she had been filming were all laughing as well. Arthur felt like he would die from shame. On the screen, his drunken self finally turned to face Sienna, though he still managed to keep the mic away from her.

_"Did I ever tell you that? Oh, man alive, if I were ten years younger."_ Sienna's face resembled a tomato as she hissed at and begged him, doing her damnedest to snatch the microphone away from him. He turned and stepped toward the rest of the room, holding his bottle up high like a champion's torch. _"Y'all are the greatest! I love ya!" _And with that declaration, he brought the bottle to his lips and drank. And drank. And continued to drink until he fell backwards and hit the ground. Sienna had just pried the mic from his grip when he hit the floor, leaving her standing over her sauced friend with a look of absolute horror on her face as she realized that all eyes were on her. The hall had gone completely silent. Sienna Khan looked down at him, then around at the now silent party.

_"Uh..."_ The normally cool and collected Khan offered weakly, before she remembered who she was and cleared her throat. _"If only the rest of them were so easy to convince!"_ The joke did its job, and the whole room erupted in laughter. The scroll shook as Blake herself laughed along with the rest, and Arthur's dancing vision could only barely make out his friend dragging him away from the center of the room, and the screen turned black.

Arthur handed the scroll back to his host, then let his forehead hit the table with a dull thunk. It hurt, oh boy did it hurt, but maybe it would be enough to kill him and save him from the wrath of his mortified friend. Ghira patted his back consolingly, returning his daughter's scroll to her as he did so. Kali's amused smirk and glances made so much sense now, and even the normally bashful Blake was laughing at his expense.

"She's gonna kill me." Arthur groaned out, and Ghira couldn't stop his laughter either.

"I don't believe so, mister Morgan. If anything, you've definitely proven that she's ready for leadership." He smirked at some hidden joke. "She thought on her feet and got you to safety, as well as getting an entire room full of people to forget about how embarrassing you were. If anyone would have guessed that from the infamous Lady Khan, they kept their peace." Arthur just groaned again and looked around the table. If he was going to meet his end, he'd do it with a full stomach.

"Anybody want the rest of those eggs?" Kali pushed the plate toward him without a word, and Arthur grabbed a fork and dug in. The rest of breakfast covered lighter, less embarrassing topics like Ghira's final three weeks as leader of the White Fang, or Arthur's request to Kuo Kuana's local gunsmith. He explained what he was looking for any why, and Ghira nodded with approval.

"It is good to recognize when improvement is needed. I'm surprised that you would want better gear when what you have has seen you through so far." The big bear of a man reached underneath the table and drew out Arthur's gun belt, handing it and his satchel back to him. "Your weapons are well crafted and maintained. Were it not for the larger Grimm, I would ask why you wanted a change at all." There was a tricky question right there. The truth of the matter was, American weapons were great, definitely the best he could get a hold of back in Lemoyne. But the biggest thing he had ever killed with those weapons had been a bull alligator and a giant grizzly bear. The Grimm he had fought in the past month could have easily slaughtered those two animals, and he needed to be ready. The next time a Sea Feilong or the like showed up, Adam might not be around with his bullshit Semblance.

"I can't fight everything, but there are a few critters out there that worry me. I figured a big iron on my hip would do me better than chaining Sienna to my waist for the rest of time." She could fight, of that there was no doubt. He'd watched as she dove into combat against a giant lightning breathing sea dragon using nothing more than some impressive acrobatics and a chain. Not only that, but she'd landed the first hit on the Feilong, that explosive knife she had launched. He'd brought half an arsenal with him and some special ammo to boot, and the only thing he could do that she couldn't was shoot it in the eye.

"That may come about anyway, if your statement from last night has any effect." Kali teased. While Arthur could only groan miserably once more, the two obvious Faunus in the room perked up, mother and daughter's ears twitching in unison. A few seconds later, a great loud knock sounded at the door. The reaper had come for him. Arthur stood up and cracked his back, appreciating that the coffee had helped bring him back from the dead, at least. If Sienna was going to skin him alive, he'd at least face his death coherently. Ghira stood as well to answer the door, taking the lead as Arthur belted his guns on and grabbed his satchel.

"Appreciate the breakfast, Kali. Blake." He offered a two fingered salute to the two seated women, then followed Ghira out towards the foyer. As he passed into the room, Arthur noticed his hat and coat were still hanging up from the previous night. He grabbed them down from the wall pegs as Ghira opened the door. Sure enough, Sienna stood outside in her normal clothing, her face impassive even as she scanned the foyer.

"Lady Khan." Ghira greeted politely, inclining his head. "How can I help you today?" Arthur stepped out from the corner, not one to hide from a challenge.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Chieftain, but I seem to have..." Her amber eyes finally settled on Arthur, and they narrowed dangerously. Shit. "...misplaced something." Oh, that was just low. Treating him like a lost suitcase, was she? Arthur knew he had publicly embarrassed her in front of the White Fang and the citizens of Kuo Kuana, but everything Ghira was saying hinted that it had been for the better. Why was she so bent out of shape if he had helped the people see her more as a person and less as an absolute leader?

"Yes, I believe you have. Worry not, however. I'll return what is yours." He said it with a smile on his face, and Arthur was ready to get snarky were it not for the blistering sunlight that came through the doorway. Normally, seeing Sienna with the sun behind her was a real treat, but with his hangover still lingering, it only made Arthur want to claw his eyes out. Anything to save them from the blinding light.

"Real cute, both of ya." Arthur groused, stepping around Ghira and out into the warm tropical morning. Sienna made room for him to exit, if only slightly. Like she was sidestepping a ball of shit as it rolled down the hill. "Chief, it was an absolute pleasure having breakfast with your family. Now if you don't mind, I'm gonna go die in a hole somewhere." Arthur tipped his hat and nodded. As he stepped down the stairs that led to the path through the village, he heard Sienna and Ghira exchange some whispered words. His hangover really sapped any hope he had of caring what they had to say, but he knew it ended with an indignant hiss from Sienna and Ghira's roaring laughter. He had barely turned around when Sienna stomped past him, taking extra care to drive the heel of her foot onto his boot. Arthur yelped in surprise and pain and pulled away from her, even as Ghira closed the front door.

"Hey, wait up." He called, and all it seemed to do was make Sienna walk faster. Cursing and hopping along on one foot until the throbbing went away, it was a miracle Arthur didn't fall the rest of the way down the steps. When they reached the bottom of the hill where the path led to her secluded little home, only then did the tigress turn and face him.

"What on Remnant were you thinking, Arthur?!" She demanded, and it took a conscious effort not to shrink in on himself. He suddenly was a young boy once more, looking up at Hosea and Dutch after he'd been caught thieving from the others in camp.

"I didn't know what he put in my glass!" He defended, earning only a frustrated huff as she continued stalking into the forest. Arthur followed close behind, glad that the foliage obscured the sun from his abused eyeballs. "I'd never even heard of Firewater before last night. Even Ghira says that the bartender is used to swapping drinks." His excuses seemed to fall on deaf ears, four of them to be exact. The dumbest thing was, he almost validated the rumors in chasing after her like a husband apologizing to his disappointed wife. It was completed by the part where she reached the door before he did and slammed it behind her, leaving him standing out on the front porch with a hangover and a confused expression.

"Then you can go figure out how to recover, _mister Morgan_. I'm sure your horse will be excellent company!" Was the last he heard from her as he stood outside the door. He knocked lightly on the door, calling her name to absolutely no effect. Sighing heavily, he turned to look for Famine, needing a relaxing ride more than anything. And of course, the horse was nowhere to be found. _This just ain't my morning._ Arthur rubbed his face and groaned, then set off around the house at a frustrated pace. True to his luck, the Arabian was standing next to a stand of young trees, his reins wrapped around one of them so haphazardly that there was no way Sienna had done it. The grass around the trees was long and thick, except for a few spots. The damned horse had come seeking a snack, and got his reins wrapped around the saplings in the process. Given that the dirt wasn't disturbed terribly, it was a recent development.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He asked in exasperation, walking up to get the poor animal untethered. Famine only snorted in response, as if to point out that Arthur was no better. It was a sentiment he would have agreed with. "We are quite the pair, you and I." If the black Arabian had anything to offer to that, he remained silent. When Arthur finally freed his companion, nearly getting his hand wrapped up in the mess in the process, he led the stubborn animal away from the trees and mounted up, thankful for the shady comfort of Sienna's property. Even if the woman herself was embarrassed and upset because of him, he could enjoy the benefits of her generosity. Still, he had been responsible for making a fool of her, and the right thing to do would be to apologize... after she cooled down.

With that in mind, Arthur set out toward the path that led to Kuo Kuana, tossing one last look back toward the bungalow. The door remained shut, and there was no sign of his tigress roommate. Shrugging off the forlorn feeling in his chest, Arthur turned back and flicked his reins.

The gunsmith wasn't located in the city itself, but rather just outside of it in an enclosed compound. Ten foot tall wooden walls surrounded the property, as much protection from stray Grimm as it was to protect the forest from any accidents. Working on weapons and ammunition sometimes had disastrous outcomes, and there was less risk of a fire spreading all over Kuo Kuana this way. It also helped that the shop was built next to a medium sized creek, maybe twenty feet across and just a few feet deep. Two brothers worked there, and plied their craft for the good of the Faunus. Despite the fact that they themselves were human, Brok and Sindri had done plenty of custom jobs for the White Fang. And a custom order was exactly what Arthur needed as well.

When he walked up into the compound, Arthur could already hear loud clanging and what sounded like arguing deeper in the shop. He was hesitant to go any further inside, to avoid both the debate and the insufferable heat that came from the forge. Sindri liked to use his own custom parts and machined them himself, and it was up to Brok to smith them from steel and other materials. Since Brok had a Semblance that protected him from extreme heat, the short and angry little man didn't seem to notice just how hot a forge was, especially in a tropical climate. Arthur was sweating just standing outside the shop.

"Hey, Brok! You boys in there?" Arthur hollered over the din. The argument inside stopped, and after a few moments he could see a shadow moving in the dim light of the workshop. When it came out to the light, the bearded and stubborn face of Brok broke out into a grin. He was a short, stocky man, dark in complexion and bald. He wore a light t-shirt underneath a stained tan blacksmith apron. He wore thin brown pants and a pair of black boots, apparently as immune to Menagerie's heat as he was to his own forge.

"Mr. Morgan! Are ye here to hand over those pea shooters o' yers?" The stout little man asked, and Arthur would have gotten defensive were he not there to replace them. Life and Death had served him well, and even though this was their last day he was still loyal to his tools. He drew them one at a time from his belt and emptied the cylinders, then handed the engraved revolvers to the smith. Despite his gruff reference to them, Brok handled them carefully, his eyes roving over the metal with the gaze of a master craftsman.

"You gonna be able to fill the order with that, or do I need more material?" Arthur was willing to pay, but lien he didn't spend here could go towards his trip to Vale in a few weeks. Thankfully, Brok shook his head gruffly and turned back into the shop, holding the pistols out from him to protect their finish from his dirty apron.

"Who do you think you're talking to, boy? This here will be enough. For what yer paying, I've got plenty of metal ta spare!" Arthur sat outside, decidedly not following the little man into the oven he called a shop. Even Sindri tried to get breaks from the heat, and Arthur's lingering hangover told him there was a nap heading his way soon. The breakfast from earlier had settled nicely, and since he wasn't chucking it all over the place, it made him drowsy. He wanted to stand next to the shop in case they had any questions, but everyone in town said that Brok had been at this business for years. What harm was there in giving him creative license? Waving the shop off with one hand, Arthur walked back outside of the compound and turned toward the trees, spotting one particularly thick palm that had his name written all over it. When he reached it, Arthur turned around and put his back to bark and slowly slid down, settling in at the base of the tree. He looked around one last time, just to make sure no critters would crawl down his shirt while he was asleep. Once he was comfortable that the local wildlife would leave him alone, Arthur pulled his hat down over his eyes and got comfortable. Hopefully, things would be just a little bit better when he woke up.

* * *

Vacuo wasn't really all that different from the last time Summer had visited. It was still hot, still dry, and still full of assholes. The most recent one had possessed the nerve to swat her rear as she had walked by, and it had taken everything John Marston had to keep her from caving the degenerate's head in. Still, that was the price she paid for trying to get them official documents through shady, unofficial means. A few platinum watches and belt buckles had garnered enough lien for them to get by, seeing as how she had given Arthur everything she'd had left.

Now, she was explaining to John and Abigail the need for silence and calm while they toured the Vacuo Black Market. Which, for once, was almost an actual market. The little plaza was between two of Vacuo's less traveled streets, and no one here offered their name for any reason. A couple scrolls and some fake identification had been expensive, especially on a rush order, but she still had enough left over for them to hit a diner in the nicer part of town. She still hated being in Vacuo, or even on Remnant period. Every second she spent on this side of the gateway she risked discovery, and then everything would come crashing down once more. She would be worse than Raven to her family, and her enemies would be after her with even more tenacity. But she couldn't just dump them out into the desert like she had Arthur. There was no way for her to adequately explain the way that Remnant worked, and the differences between Vacuo and America were so great that she couldn't just pat them on the back and send them on their way. On top of that, Jack still needed to see a doctor.

"I can't believe any of this." Abigail did her best not to stare, but the colorful and strange people around her robbed the woman of her usual caution. Jack was excited to see all the cool animal people, though his frequent coughing worried Summer. Jack didn't have the big set of healthy, adult lungs that had allowed Arthur to survive TB for months. He was in great danger, not to mention contagious as well. The only reason they hadn't gone straight to a clinic was because she needed the fake ID's.

"Arthur made it through here? This is where he went to get treatment for TB?" John asked, watching a passing Faunus give him the stink eye. If John hadn't been so preoccupied with the bear ears on top of the man's head, he might have glared back. The table they sat at was outside and covered by a large umbrella, though a few previous customers had torn holes in the umbrella and carved vulgar things into the table. Thankfully, Jack wasn't quite at the age where reading came naturally.

"There's a clinic down the street from here. It's an official one, not like a few others we've seen, but it is your best bet for getting Jack treatment." Summer explained, then held up the scroll she was going to give John. "I'm going to see where Arthur is at."

"With what? That little mirror looking thing?" John was ready to laugh, but when numbers appeared on the scroll as she began to dial, his voice died in his throat. The dialing chime sounded a few times, but there was no answer. Growling in frustration, Summer tried again. Nothing.

"Where is he?" She wondered out loud, pushing the scroll back across the table. John hesitantly took it, though he examined closely rather than placing it in his bag. Abigail looked down at hers like it was going to transform into a viper. When Jack reached over to play with it, she pushed it further away from him without taking it herself.

"This place is ridiculous. Why did you bring us here?" Abigail demanded anxiously, her head on a swivel as she watched people walk by. Summer resisted the urge to run her hand down her face, and took a deep, calming breath.

"The Pinkertons were closing in, there was a dead agent on the ground, you are _known_ to them as members of the Van der Linde gang, I'm pretty sure your son has Tuberculosis, and Arthur asked me to save you." Summer ticked off each reason on her fingers, watching dispassionately as Abby slowly shrunk into herself with each one. John gripped her shoulder reassuringly, then pocketed his scroll. No doubt he'd be exploring it later when they separated. She really needed to return to America soon, though. Already, she could feel eyes on her. Every person they had passed was a potential witness, and her family was only safe as long as her death was assured to the powers that be.

"Here's a map of the city." She pulled it up on Abby's scroll. "There's a clinic just around the corner here. Take this money and pay them with it. I've programmed Arthur's number into both of your scrolls, so when he is finally in a position to answer you he can arrange a meeting. He should be at Shade Academy if he listened to my instructions, but I don't have time to track him down. I have to get back to Lemoyne before someone here recognizes me." She set the stack of lien down in front of the Marston family, and didn't let it leave her sight until John had stowed it all away. Abigail looked miserable and terrified for her son, but John was just pensive. This was a lot to put on a family at once, but what choice did she have? She still had to meet Sadie and Charles and go to Canada, but she had to know that they would be safe.

"Why did he come here and leave us?" John asked, stopping Summer from standing up. "If he got cured, why didn't he come back? Why did he send you?" Summer looked around, on edge, but she owed him an explanation for why his family had been dumped into a strange land with no way back to America.

"Because the people that are after me are very dangerous, and I needed Arthur to take something very important to a friend of mine." She explained vaguely. "A war is coming, and my family will be in the middle of it whether I want them to be or not. I had to even the odds, but as long as everyone here thinks that I'm dead, my daughters will be safe for a time." Abigail's nose scrunched up at that, and she finally looked Summer in the eye for the first time since they sat down.

"How can you do that? Just up and leave your girls behind? What kind of mother are you?" It was a hasty question, born of ignorance and coming from a mother running on adrenaline and fear. But that didn't lessen its sting one bit. Summer relished that pain, however. As long as it hurt as much as it did, then she would forever be better than Raven. She was doing this because she loved her family, not because she abandoned them.

"Because if I go to them, I will have to watch them die." She responded lowly. "And I will bear all the pain in the world before I allow that to happen." Abigail opened her mouth, but whatever comment she had died as she sagged in her seat. Instead of coming up with something else to throw at Summer, she reached over and grabbed Jack's pale little hand, holding onto him for comfort as she considered ever having to make such a choice. Summer stood up with that, and walked purposefully out of the small restaurant they had taken shelter in. The dust whipped up as she turned onto the street, and then she was gone.

John watched her leave, searching for some kind of sign that she was coming back. When nothing happened, he turned and looked at Abigail. She was on the verge of tears, so overwhelmed with the turn of events that had transpired over the past twelve hours. Dutch, Micah being a traitor, the Pinkertons swarming the camp, Jack having TB... it was a lot to take on all at once. Sure, Arthur being alive was a welcome surprise, but the rest of it weighed on her heavily. Jack was too young to be bothered by it, his only real concern being the consistent cough he had like Uncle Arthur.

"Well, we won't get anything done sitting around here." John said resolutely. "Come on, Jack. We gotta get out of here and find Uncle Arthur. But first, we gotta get you well." He grabbed his son's hand and guided him off of his chair. Abigail looked around one last time before she too stood and followed her man out of the restaurant. When they stepped onto the streets of Vacuo, the strange device in John's hand moved along the map with them. It was disorientating at first, but John got the hang of it soon enough. It was like if the map he was looking at rotated depending on the direction he was facing. After traveling in circles a few times, they were finally able to find the little clinic next to some hardware store. It was a quiet, clean little place with a waiting room and a small window. An elderly woman sat on the other side, and she called them over as soon as they walked in.

Forty five minutes later, Jack had been evaluated. The doctor prescribed extensive bed rest and a whole bunch of medication.

"I have no idea how the boy got such an extensive infection such as this, but the desert heat will work as well as the medicine. He should be right as rain in a few weeks." The doctor had said. John had managed to pay attention, if barely. It had been all Abigail could do to ignore the deer antlers sprouting from the man's head. Still, the lien that Summer had given them was enough, although people in Vacuo weren't quite as willing to haggle as they had been in Valentine. When they walked out of the clinic, Abigail clung to John like a drowning woman at sea.

"John, what will we do now? That woman left us, and this place is so strange. And what about Dutch?" John didn't respond at first, thinking back to how they had arrived. He would normally share her concerns, but the way they had gotten to Vacuo was insane. Downright witchcraft, if he was to judge. She'd taken them to some ruins near Beaver Hollow, further up in the mountains near a waterfall. While he and Abigail were watching for intruders, John had heard the rock shift. When he'd turned around to ask what was wrong, Summer was standing in front of a rock gate that had a desert on the other side. It was as if the path walked right through the mountain itself. When they had all stepped through it, the portal had closed. And it was as if they had traveled hundreds of miles in an instant. Even the air had changed; the moist, humid forest on the side of the river had been replaced by a dry and arid heat reminiscent of New Austin.

"I don't think we gotta worry about ol' Dutch. Right now, we need to focus on finding Arthur and figuring out how to get out of here." He looked down at his young son, who was too busy watching all the strange and colorful people walk by. "As long as we're here, Jack's gonna get better. Until we know he's okay, we should probably find some work around here." John's eyes surveyed the dusty town around them, searching for any leads. Nothing sprang to mind at first, especially with all this crazy 'technology' Summer had told them about. Maybe he could work in the warehouses near the edge of town, or maybe even...wait.

John stepped away from Abigail and Jack to get a better view, not believing his own eyes. The figure stepped around the corner before he could do anything else, and John took off after it. He shoved complaining people out of his way, desperate to prove to himself that he hadn't seen it, that his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. When he rounded the corner, all he found was a brick wall and a dark alley. Abby and Jack ran up behind him, his sun clinging to his pants.

"What was it, John? What did you see?" Abigail asked worriedly, fearful that their rescue had not been as clean as it first seemed. John stared into the alley for a long time, then finally shook his head.

"It was nothing." He reassured her, and patted little Jack on the head. "Just my head being funny." As he walked away and led his family toward the warehouse district, John nodded and affirmed himself. Sean MacGuire was gone, shot in the head and buried outside of Rhodes. And when he was alive, he definitely didn't have a glowing red eye.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay. The one hundred and fifty year old courthouse I usually guard burned down this past week, so there was a lot of overtime spent in keeping the site secure. A real loss, one of the oldest buildings in the county. 1872 – 2019. Still, we're moving right along, and I'll hopefully have the next chapter out faster than this one. Saw Avengers too. Excellent movie.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** We've got the Marstons back. A few people wanted more of the Van der Linde gang on Remnant, but if we get too many outlaws on this side of the story, I'll lose track and mess something up. Now then, was that Sean? Who is Ghira's mysterious ally? Why did I not show the weapons from the previous chapter? You'll see. Hopefully I can get this done in time. I have Mortal Kombat 11, and I'm watching my boy Shao Khan absolutely murder the endless tower while I write this. AI controlled carnage is wonderful and cathartic. Also, got some armor ideas from Erron Black when it comes to Arthur and maybe John. Nothing too extravagant, since they haven't used any armor up until this point, but Grimm are tougher than lawmen and raiders.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

"Okay, so Burn Dust is like an incendiary shell, but it's because of the propellant, not the payload?" Arthur tried again, and Cain nodded wearily. They had been experimenting with new ammo for Arthur's weapons all day now that he had some that were Dust compatible. His new revolver was disassembled beside him and his rifle and shotgun were with Brok and Sindri. Gunpowder was used on Remnant, but Dust was far more versatile and available. Therefore, Arthur had to learn how to manipulate it the same way he had done in America. Unlike gunpowder, however, Dust came with a whole slew of different variations and combinations. His personal favorite was Gravity Dust, though there wasn't much of it on Menagerie. It was a real treat to nail a target right where he wanted to, and then watch as the rest of the test dummy crawled inside of itself. It was like shooting a black hole, according to Cain. Arthur didn't know what that was, but just decided to agree with him.

"Yes, though we use lower grade Burn in high velocity rounds because it generates more force when ignited. If you want to keep your weapon in one piece, remember that the lower grade is the propellant. If you put the higher grade Burn in front of the primer, your gun will explode." The Faunus used his good arm to move a few more vials over on the table, most with Burn Dust, though there was quite a bit of Lightning Dust as well. All from Ghira's personal supply, though he had been warned not to use all of it in their little lesson. Arthur held up the vial and carefully meted out enough Burn Dust for a single charge. Once that was done, he placed a simple ball of lead into the shell, then crimped it together so that the entire casing fit snugly. Cain nodded as he watched, standing back as Arthur picked up the newly crafted bullet and moved toward the test weapon that Brok had loaned them.

Unlike his new weapon, the test gun could only hold one round at a time. It was a break action handgun, and had a lot of space and metal around the chamber just in case there was a malfunction. It was designed to warp and expand instead of blowing up and taking the shooter's hand off, perfect for testing experimental ammunition. Arthur loaded the new ammo into the iron gun and aimed down the sights, toward the remaining test dummy. It was an old set of Atlesian armor held up on a pair of crossed sticks. Arthur had thought that was kinda targeted toward Atlas until Brok explained that the Atlesian military had the best basic armor on the planet. If the round could penetrate that, he would be fine with most other foes. Cain quickly resealed the Dust into its protective capsule, already leery of it without Arthur's stories of idiots playing with gunpowder. Sighting up on the test dummy, Arthur got his grip right and pulled the trigger. Another odd thing about Dust was that it was quieter than gunpowder, or at least it was to him. For someone like Cain or Sienna, it was probably still an uncomfortable sound. With a loud crack, the round punched through the dummy and went into the sand berm behind it, leaving a hole the size of a small apple in its wake. Arthur set the weapon down and walked the ten yards or so to the dummy and leaned in, studying the entry and exit wounds on the unfortunate training aid. The entrance wound of a bullet from the States was usually smaller than the exit wound, since it hit harder leaving than it did going in. Here though, the Dust made a similar hole on impact as it did on exit. It was still smaller, maybe a few more inches in diameter, but the difference was enough to pique Arthur's interest.

"Hey Cain!" He hollered, already walking back to the table. "Why does Dust usually leave such a big hole on the front end?" He figured since the White Fang operative used to work for the SDC, he'd be the prime expert in all things magical and granulated. Turns out, he was only half right. Cain shrugged his shoulder, scratching at the sling his bad arm was in.

"Who knows? Atlas put a lot of research into making Dust for combat purposes, but the SDC kept quiet on its application. People call it Nature's Wrath, so we know it doesn't play by all the rules. There are a few people that say it is leftover magic from a long forgotten era, but that's just stupid. Everyone knows magic doesn't exist." Said the man with unknown animal parts attached to him to the cowboy that was brought to Remnant from another plane of existence by a woman with silver eyes and a sword. Arthur took that assumption with a grain of salt, but ultimately said nothing.

(**A/N:** It occurs to me only now that I never actually described Cain.) The red headed man – American red, not crimson or burgundy like usual on Remnant – waved Arthur over and pushed his assembled new pistol forward with his free hand. How he had put it together with the other hand in a sling was beyond Arthur, but he ignored it in favor of picking up his new toy. The handle was made of mahogany, or the Remnant equivalent of it. The dark wood went well with the black steel of the revolver. It was larger than his Schofield revolvers, but only slightly. The big difference was in the barrel and the cylinder. The barrel was eight inches long and thick, large enough to fire heavy shells. The cylinder allowed for six rounds, but he could use Dust rounds of all kinds in conjunction with one another. The cylinder was black like the barrel and frame, but small golden rings surrounded each slot in the cylinder. The gold trim flowed along the top of the gun and the sights, running from the tip of the barrel to the grip as a continuous piece. The gold tracing along the frame came together with the golden leaves of an olive tree, wrapped around the cylinder and trigger like vines. The final part had been the inspiration for the name.

The Peacemaker.

Arthur hefted his new pistol, frowning at the increased weight. If he wanted to use it as smoothly as a Cattleman, he'd need to use Aura near constantly until he became used to how heavy it was. But it truly was a marvel of engineering, and a custom job. No matter how many outlaws he gunned down or stores he robbed, there would never be anything else like the thing in his hand. They'd had a bit of silver left over from Life, his previous pistol, and he'd asked Sindri to make a gift for Sienna. He still needed to apologize for his behavior at the dinner, regardless of the benefits that came of it. Even now, he was crashing at Tukson's place for fear that Sienna was waiting to gut him like a fish. She hadn't spoken to him in the two days that had passed, though he attributed it as much to her significant work load as he did her irritation with him. Maybe something shiny and pretty would smooth her ruffled feathers?

The outlaw spun his new pistol on his finger, still getting the gist of the weight, then opened the action and inserted six new shells. These rounds were supplied by Brok himself, and were perfectly suited for the Peacemaker. Arthur had quite a few of them, per their agreement, but he hadn't tested them yet. Now was the time, while they worked on his other request.

Arthur finished loading his revolver and holstered it, taking a relaxed stance and facing the dummy as he would an opposing duelist. Arthur breathed in a breath and held it, then released in a long exhale. His hand floated above his holster, relaxed and ready. Twenty years ago, it twitched and itched to draw like mad. Now that he was older and wiser, he was motionless as a statue, ready to move when he needed to and not an inch before. Behind him, Cain watched on curiously.

When he drew, it was almost faster than Cain could see. One moment, Arthur was standing still and facing the dummy. The next, six shots rang out in quick succession and Arthur stood with his pistol at his hip, his other hand resting on the hammer. Arthur sighed heavily and twirled the pistol, holstering it and walking up to the dummy. Where the previous shot with the Dust round had gone through the chest, Arthur's hip fire barrage drilled into the dummy's head. Five rounds combined to blow a hole in the target large enough for Arthur's hand to pass through unscathed, though to his disappointment there was a stray round that had destroyed the dummy's neck as well. The remainder was enough to keep the ruined head aloft, but only just.

"Damn." Arthur muttered as he examined the rogue shot. "I pulled on the last one." The weight of the Peacemaker would still take some getting used to, but that's why he was at the range with Cain. Arthur broke open the action and watched with a pleased grin as the rounds ejected themselves, leaving an opening for the new invention that he was still all kinds of happy about: speed loaders. Instead of feeding each round in manually, which he could still do in a pinch, there was a specialized ring of metal that held six rounds at once that he could load in and discard. Arthur pushed one in, making sure that the little ring came out before he closed the action. All six rounds entered the cylinder smoothly, and he closed the action with a flick of his wrist in the same way he would have with a double barrel shotgun. It clicked shut without a hitch, and he returned it to his holster.

"You sure you want this other one?" Cain called from the table, wrestling Arthur's other purchase up from a duffle bag. Unlike the Peacekeeper, which was crafted from the combined parts of Life and Death, the other contribution to his arsenal had been bought straight out from Brok and Sindri with no additional input from Arthur, save the name. The weapon finally came free, all fifteen pounds of it, to reveal a single tube, break action grenade launcher. Like the Peacekeeper, the stock was done in deep red mahogany, and the metal for the tube, sight, trigger, and frame was all done in black. No engravings decorated it, however, except for a small snarling tiger face on the inside of the frame, only visible when the action was broken open. It was capable of using larger Dust grenades and rounds than the Peacekeeper, and it was incredibly simple to use. Break action, insert grenade, close action, pull trigger. Repeat as needed. Arthur had requested something more capable of handling big Grimm, and Brok had just the thing in mind. It was the Deal Breaker, and Arthur couldn't wait to test it out.

"Way I figure it, I'd rather never have a reason to pull it out. But our little boat ride across the ocean told me I needed a bigger gun." He patted the new Peacekeeper on his side. "This little piece can handle almost anything, but I like to be prepared." Cain didn't look like he cared enough to argue, and just shrugged his good shoulder.

"If you insist. Most Huntsmen use combination weapons, with the mecha shift technology Atlas is so proud of. Part pistol, part grenade launcher, part sword. I've seen it done. But if you want to carry both of them, don't let me stop you." Not everyone liked to have a complicated piece of machinery on their hip at all times, and Arthur clearly enjoyed the simple designs. The less that was going on inside, the better. He didn't need an internal mechanism failing on him in the middle of a fight because he wanted a fancy weapon.

Arthur lifted the Deal Breaker up off of the table, hefting its weight and opening the action. His eyes ran over it critically, lingering on the snarling tiger next to the firing pin. Somehow, that was Brok's idea of a joke, he just knew it. Still, there was no complaining about a new weapon, especially one designed to blow stuff up. He'd used explosive rounds before, but this was apparently a whole other magnitude. Arthur grabbed one of the supplied grenades, a mixture of Burn and Wind Dust for a high explosive yield. Cain was still digging in the duffle bag, but he froze when he heard the hollow _thunk_ of the round sliding into the tube.

"Uh, Arthur?" The Faunus stepped back, clearly nervous as the gunslinger closed the action with a satisfying _click_. "Are you CERTAIN you want to fire that here? We're really close to that target." The tremble in his voice gave Arthur pause, but he wasn't too worried about it.

"What are you talking about? We're fine all the way back here. I've thrown dynamite closer than this." And it was true. Every time he'd used explosives, the furthest he'd gone for cover had been forty yards. There had never been need of anything else.

"Arthur, there's more to that Dust than nitroglycerin and sawdust! We use it to fight high level Grimm! In that concentration, it could level the mansion!" Cain stepped forward as if to take the Deal Breaker away, and Arthur slowly let it fall from his shoulder. Was it really that powerful? Cain was the Dust Specialist, and therefore knew better than he did, but it was hard to imagine anything that destructive coming out of a modified rifle. Arthur looked down at it again, then reluctantly opened the action and removed the shell.

"Alright, I reckon you know better than I do. But don't you want to test it, just once? I kinda wanna see what yer talking about now." And if he was ever going to use the thing, he needed to know what it was capable of. Cain looked conflicted, torn between seeing explosive ordnance at work and not wanting to level the firing range. It was small enough as is, and if they wiped it off the map, Ghira would be frustrated about building a new one.

"Tell you what. Let's go see if there's anyone swimming over next to the beach. We can test it on the water." Cain suggested, glad that he hadn't just hauled off and pulled the trigger. Armageddon was worse for the people at ground zero, and he was already healing from one injury. Arthur nodded in agreement and placed the empty launcher back into the duffle bag and scooped it up, along with the empty boxes of ammunition from the Peacekeeper's stock. Cain gathered his Dust mixing supplies into a separate bag, one that was thankfully padded to prevent any unfortunate explosions. Especially since it was going to be on his back. Together, they left the firing range next to Brok and Sindri's compound, angling out toward the coast instead of Kuo Kuana. The coastal forest was full of thin, tall trees. Some were palms, but the rest were a species of tree Arthur wasn't quite familiar with. It did explain where the flexible, white wood that the Faunus built with came from. After a few minutes of tromping through the woods, Arthur and Cain emerged onto the beach itself. The sand was littered with dead branches and leaves, sticking up from just beneath the surface. Between the fronds and the sticks, Arthur was nervous about snakes more than anything, but Cain strode right through without a sweat.

Arthur looked down both sides of the beach, but there wasn't a soul around for miles. The pier where he had first arrived on Menagerie was a ways off, and the small dock near it that people used for fishing was empty as well. With no one around but fish and waves, Arthur and Cain were free to test out the Deal Breaker.

"Looks like the coast is clear." Whether the pun was intended or not, it still managed to get a chuckle from Arthur. Cain set his bag down in the shade of a tree, far enough away that its volatile contents would be safe from the Deal Breaker's explosive ordnance. Arthur removed his new weapon from its bag once more and loaded it, eager to see just what the fuss was about. His Faunus companion remained in the shade of the trees as Arthur stooped and picked up a decent sized coconut, hefting it in one hand while he held the launcher in the other. Pushing a little Aura into his arm, Arthur hurled the fruit as hard as he could into the ocean. It sailed thirty, forty, then fifty feet out before it finally began to drop. Once he heard the distant _plop, _Arthur loaded his grenade into the tube and closed the action. The bobbing brown speck disappeared with the ebb and flow of the tide, but Arthur kept the stock to his shoulder and waited patiently. He angled the launcher upward, trying to adjust for the distance. A grenade was heavier than a bullet, and began dropping a lot sooner. Since he'd never fired one before, he opted to aim higher.

He waited for several seconds, his target bobbing in and out of sight. When he finally did pull the trigger, the recoil kicked far less than he anticipated as the grenade left the barrel with a dull _thump_. He watched and waited, unsure if the round even detonated. Just as he let the stock fall from his shoulder and began to turn around and ask Cain what the problem was, a colossal pillar of water exploded angrily up into the air. The detonation sent a ripple through the water as well as the air, and the pressure of the explosion washed over Arthur and caused him to stagger back. The ocean's angry waves slowly returned to their normal rhythm as the water rained down from on high, and Arthur couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face.

* * *

The column of water was visible from Ghira's mansion, and Sienna paused in her debate with the large man to watch it recede back into the ocean. She and Ghira both stopped talking and slowly stood up, wary of an invasion or Grimm intrusion. She and her predecessor stood in silence for a while, but nothing new came about besides the splash.

"What could that have been?" She wondered out loud. Ghira hummed in response, and turned to the door that led toward the main portion of the house. When he opened it, a uniformed guard from Kuo Kuana's security force was already waiting. The dog Faunus bowed in respect, then returned to full attention.

"The perimeter guard says that Cain and Morgan were testing new ordnance. There's no emergency reported at this time." She said dutifully. Ghira smirked at the report and nodded in thanks, then stepped back and closed the door once more. When he turned back to face Sienna, he found the woman fuming and facing the window, her arms crossed. Ghira was certain that if her Semblance allowed her to fire lasers from her eyes, Arthur Morgan would be a dead man even from this distance.

"You can't still be angry with him." Ghira began, walking over to the window as well but maintaining a respectful distance. Sienna's shoulders hunched at his comment, but she didn't contradict him right away. That, if anything, told Ghira that the outlaw in question was in far less hot water than Sienna let on.

"He embarrassed me in front of all of our people. It is as if he sought out the alcohol as soon as he could, like he has an addiction. And he still hasn't apologized!" Ghira heard the click of metal chains, and for a moment he thought that she would lash out in anger. Still, she knew better than to draw a weapon in his home. Before he could admonish her, however, Sienna relaxed and leaned against the wall, her chin resting on the window sill as her eyes searched the coast for her wayward friend. From the mansion, it would be impossible but all except a few avian Faunus to make out the difference between individual people, but it didn't stop her from trying to figure out which obscure speck of color was Arthur.

"After speaking with him yesterday morning, I think the fault is more in the host than the guest." Ghira offered. "The bartender offered him the strongest drink in the house, and I'm willing to bet that the only reason he sought the bar was because he had no place at the table." As soon as he had seated Sienna and been dismissed by Ghira, Arthur had really had no place to go. He'd been left to find his own way at the gathering, and considering his history, was it really so unbelievable that he seek the bar? Still, he'd had an expectation to not get absolutely shattered and actually witness her take over the White Fang. Instead he had made a fool of himself, and her by extension.

"It matters not why he got drunk so quickly. I'm more angry about him touching it in the first place. How could that be his first reaction to a gathering?" She scoffed at Ghira's helpless look. "I will speak to him, if it pleases you. I don't hate him, but he has displeased me greatly." The large Chieftain nodded sagely. Sienna turned and made to sit back down, but Ghira's pinched grin told her that he had more to say.

"I'm sure your ire has nothing to do with that comment about if he were ten years younger." Sienna Khan, who could run across the nearly vertical surface of a sailing ship while battling a ferocious sea dragon, tripped over nothing. The woman staggered, regained her footing, and drew herself back up to the height fit for the leader of the White Fang. Ghira had nothing to say about her furious blush, and neither did she.

Thirty minutes later, Sienna had finished discussing the relocation of the White Fang's headquarters with Ghira. Due to her proposal about the Fang taking a harsher stance on racism, Sienna suggested that Menagerie was no longer suitable as a base of operations. Any Kingdom that took exception to how the White Fang operated would surely target Kuo Kuana. Despite Ghira's insistence that true equality would come from peaceful demonstration, he had reluctantly agreed that a new headquarters would be necessary in the coming months. The best possible candidate was somewhere on Anima, close enough to render aid to Menagerie during crisis yet far enough away to distance Kuo Kuana from any retaliation.

Walking down the steps of Ghira's mansion, she considered his other words as well. Had she truly overreacted to Arthur's debauchery? The humiliation still lingered, and even as she walked through the village, she could hear the murmurs of those gossiping about her and her human friend. One would think that an island full of people with sharp senses would discourage gossip, but all it did was make them more honest in their whispers. Two months ago, they had no rumors to cluck over. Now, however...

One more thing that Arthur had brought upon her. He was ignorant of common courtesy, an alcoholic at best, her back yard smelled of horse manure, he'd nearly sabotaged her rise to power... and yet, she still felt bad about kicking him out of the house. She was no stranger to punishment, either giving or receiving. Many young whelps had been trimmed into shape by her firm guidance, and yet she got the queasy feeling in her stomach for withdrawing her hospitality to a homeless squatter? No, that was unfair. Arthur was more than just some vagabond; he'd almost given his life for Sienna and her comrades. He was far from home, and rather than panic and struggle with the fact he had stepped into her situation and helped, without asking a single thing in return. No, his only price had been directions to Vale, in exchange for his blood and sweat over the past two months. And suddenly she was being a poor host, all because he made her blush in front of some party goers. The shame returned, but now she was upset with her own actions, not his. _Well done, Sienna. You might as well have slapped him for tripping over you._ A pained grimace crossed her face, and Sienna could only shake her head. The pressure of becoming Supreme Leader was getting to her. She'd finally obtained the position she had sought, and one of her first actions, official or otherwise, had been to cast out a friend.

So caught up was she in her own spiraling thoughts, Sienna never noticed someone standing in front of her until she bumped into them. Embarrassed further, she recoiled and looked up to see who she had just pushed up against.

"I'm sorry, I was-" Her eyes widened when the exact subject of her thoughts stood before her, holding a paper package and wearing the same smile as always.

"Got something on yer mind?" Arthur asked amicably. No anger, no resentment. Just the same good natured cowboy that had walked into the wrong alley two months ago. Sienna found a smile on her face before she even realized, and she quickly hid it behind an indifferent huff.

"Nothing to concern yourself with. Where have you been cavorting off to these past two days? Trying to blow up the whole island?" There was no spite in her voice, but he winced anyway. She noticed a strap across his chest, and he nodded his head toward the grenade launcher on his back.

"Figured if I was gonna be tusslin' with some real monsters, I needed an upgrade. Those two boys out on the coast fixed me up real nice." He patted his hip as well, and Sienna saw that his pistols were gone, replaced by a single more modern revolver. He truly had been getting upgrades while she had been stuck with Ghira. What it did not explain, however, was the square package he was holding out to her.

"What's this?" She didn't want to touch it at first, wary of any reprisal. If not for kicking him out of the house like a common fishwife, then at least for taking pictures of him clutching Adam while they were at sea. He still had not gotten revenge for that.

"Figured I owed you an apology after the other night. Back where I come from, the best way to say sorry is with a gift." When she hesitantly took it, hefting its weight, he grinned and shrugged. "I promise I won't let it happen again." The package itself weighed only a little more than one of her explosive knives, and she idly wondered what on Remnant it could be. He'd been spending his time with Kuo Kuana's weapon smiths, so it could be a bomb for all that she knew.

"Arthur, I've been meaning to speak to you about-" Sienna blanched when his finger crossed her lips, halting the apology before it ever came. She was so surprised, she didn't know whether to back away or bite the offending digit off. Arthur just grinned and gestured toward the package.

"Enough of that nonsense. I paid good money for those two loons to put something together. I won't hear another word until you open it." He crossed his arms, standing firm in the middle of the path. People walked around them, offering curious stares and whispers as she stared at the package in her hand. Knowing full well that he wouldn't budge until she had done as he asked, Sienna undid the small twine wrapping with a huff.

"If this blows up in the middle of Kuo Kuana, I swear Arthur..." Whatever else she had to say was lost as the packaging fell away, revealing a small metal object the size of an grapefruit.

Arthur had paid Brok and Sindri to melt down Life and Death in order to have the materials needed for the Peacemaker. However, since it was done in black steel, there had been ample silver and a little bit of gold left over. At the gunslinger's behest, the two master craftsmen had shaped the left over precious metals into a beautiful orchid flower in full bloom. The petals were done in silver, the more plentiful metal, but there was gold lining the petals and made up the entirety of the stamen in the center. It was not done hastily or crudely, either; the curve of the petals and the slight tilt of the stamen made it seem as if someone had plucked a blossom and turned it to metal. Sienna's eyes roamed the small statue, unable to help the small smile that crossed her face.

"I've got all kinds of little knickknacks from my adventures." He explained, stepping back as she cupped the orchid with both hands. "It's about time you had one for yourself." He pointed his finger at the figurine and rolled his wrist, indicating that she should turn it over. Sienna delicately flipped it over, and gasped when she saw the emerald he had carried with him from America. The large stone had been cut to fit the base of the orchid, surrounded by a square gold frame to serve as a base for the whole statue. The head of the jewel was flush with the frame, and she would have never noticed it upon first looking at it. It was the work of a master, and it had come from Arthur's generosity and guns.

"Oh Arthur, this is..." She didn't really know what to say, even as passersby gawked at the wonderful little statue. "This is too much! I couldn't possibly take this from you." She tried to hand it back, but was forced to clutch it to her chest when Arthur stepped away from her instead of taking it. He shook his head and held his arms behind his back.

"No ma'am, this is the one time I will absolutely refuse an order. You gotta take it." He took his hat off and held it over his chest. "I got that emerald killing a lion, it only makes sense that I give it to a tiger." The horrible joke managed to make her smile, and she looked down at the priceless figurine in her hands. It wasn't like it was the first gift she had ever received, there had been many throughout her life from friends. But the fact that the small, delicate statue in her hands was born from his adventures, struggles and hardships that she had never taken part in. It was a piece of himself, or his history at least, and she was still trying to get over being so cross with him. It was almost enough to bring a tear to her eye.

"Arthur, I'm sorry about the other day. I was angry and embarrassed." She looked away, unable to face him directly while holding his gift. "I didn't mean for you to stay out past the night, but I was being selfish and petty. Can you forgive me?" Arthur looked at her for a long time, his face impassive as he considered her words. Sienna squirmed under his scrutiny, wishing he would say something just to break the tension. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then his cheek twitched. He just couldn't hold it anymore.

"You think you're the first woman I've embarrassed with some drink?" He asked with a bark of laughter. "No, you ain't got no cause to say sorry. I earned my place in the doghouse this time. Don't feel so bad about it." The gunslinger clapped her shoulder roughly and walked past her, heading back toward her house presumably. Sienna blinked in surprise, still processing the fact that he was totally okay with being left out in the figurative cold for two days, before she turned around with an arched brow.

"Who did you stay with, anyway?" She inquired, cupping her hands around the sliver figure he had given her. She hustled to catch up to him, and soon they were walking side by side once more. Menagerie wasn't the most forgiving island, but a seasoned survivor like Arthur could easily make it in the wild. Well, he could if he'd had his horse, who was currently tethered to the back porch of her bungalow. Arthur rolled his neck, glad to be back on speaking terms once more. It had been a bit lonely crashing on Tukson's couch, though the man himself had been full of questions regarding his 'book'. Still, telling the story was far better than just mulling it over in his head.

"Tukson wanted to ask me a few more questions. He's almost finished with that western he's been writing." Arthur grinned at her knowing look, and he shrugged off her scrutiny. "The last thing he needs is some editing and a name, and the myth of the Van der Linde gang is born." He turned and smiled at her, but the cheer didn't reach his eyes. His comrades and friends were gone, the survivors left in the hands of a woman he had known only for a day. To have someone write a book about his travels...it wasn't about him. It was about his friends, and how they'd lived and died.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. That can't be easy for you." She placed one hand on his shoulder, and he shrugged her off and shook his head.

"Nah, it ain't that bad. I've mourned them all already, just felt like doing them justice, is all. He ate it up, though. I can tell he really wants to tell that story." Arthur diverted the conversation back to Tukson. "The boy says he can get a shop set up in the city of Vale, near the main square according to him. Sounds like you'll have a friendly face there soon." A friend. Not an operative or an informant, but a friend. After spending time shaping the White Fang into the guerrilla force it was going to be, Sienna had to force herself not to see Tukson as an asset. It was proof once more that she needed guidance and temperance, and she was thankful to have both here. Guidance from Ghira, who still wanted the White Fang to succeed, and temperance from Arthur. The man who had lived a life the wrong way and knew the signs of a bad decision.

"We'll have to send him off properly. A fruit basket seems a little cliché, don't you think?" Arthur chuckled at that, also having the inside knowledge that Tukson was more a meat and veggies kind of guy. There wasn't a single apple or strawberry in his house.

"I was thinking that if we can come up with a name, he'll stop tearing his hair out." Arthur supplied. "Those claws of his can't be good for his head." The image of Tukson tearing out strands of hair with his claws extended brought a chuckle to her lips, and together they walked back to her bungalow. There had been no screaming match, no hurtful words. He'd apologized with a gift, she had admitted her own wrongs, and they'd gone right back to being friends. Were it not for his peace offering, Sienna would have felt that Arthur hadn't been slighted in the first place. Sienna still felt a little bad about kicking Arthur out, but now it was bearable at least. And he'd earned her forgiveness just this once.

When they reached her shaded home, Arthur was about to open the door when a vibrating noise could be heard from his pouch. Frowning in confusion, Arthur drew the scroll from his satchel and opened it. The number that was calling was clearly displayed, which meant it wasn't someone he was familiar with. Nevertheless, he opened the call anyway, and was rewarded with a face he thought he'd never see again. And judging by Abigail's expression, the feeling was mutual.

"Abigail?!" He barked out, clearly as surprised to see her as she was him. Beside him, Sienna peeked over to shoulder to see one of the Van der Linde gang. "What the hell are you doing calling me? Where are ya?"

_"Arthur, you really are alive!"_ The relief in her voice was palpable, but also tinged with fear. She wasn't calling just because she could; something was wrong. _"Please, Arthur. You have to help! Are you anywhere near Shade Academy?"_ Arthur looked up at Sienna sheepishly, and the Faunus stepped back to put her gift up inside of her house. When he looked back, that pleading expression was still on Abigail's face.

"Not really. On a different continent, to be honest. How'd you get here?" Abigail shook her head, dismissing his question in a panic.

_"I need you in Vacuo now! A group of men came by and captured John! I've got Jack with me, but I don't know who else I can call!"_ That kicked Arthur right in the pants. They'd come here from America, and John had already gotten in trouble? That figured.

"Where the hell is Summer? I told her to take care of y'all, not turn you out in the damned desert!" His disappointment in the silver eyed woman reached another level.

_"She said she couldn't stay in Vacuo, something about being recognized. Please, Arthur! We're all alone in this strange city, and I don't know how to get back to Saint Denis."_ Abigail was a capable woman, but even she would be out of her depth in a city like Vacuo. Dammit, John.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, see if you can find anyone with the White Fang. They're a friendly group, as long as you tell them you know me. If that don't work, tell them you're a friend of Supreme Leader Khan and Chieftain Belladonna. They should be able to take care of you." Sienna came back out upon hearing her name, and Arthur sent her a worried look. She nodded her head toward the path that led to the harbor, and together they started walking at a steady pace.

_"I'll try to remember all of that. Just please hurry! I only just got him back, I can't lose him again."_ Abigail pleaded.

"I'll be there soon, Abby. Just be careful and don't trust anyone other than the White Fang. I'll be in touch." With that, he hung up the call. Arthur released a pained sigh as he readjusted his hat, and Sienna could only shake her head.

"Looks like you have to go off and save the day again, cowboy." She said wryly. Too lose him so soon after making amends was a bitter thing, but Sienna knew Arthur too well to expect him to ignore the cry for help. And now that she was Supreme Leader of the White Fang, she couldn't go gallivanting across Remnant with him. Her place was on Menagerie, and his was with his old gang. For now, at least.

"I know. I wish I could stick around for the official hand over, but I can't just leave them out there." He looked over at her with a curious expression. "And what will the great Sienna Khan do in my absence? Keep fighting the good fight?"

"There are a few sites on Anima that may make good bases, as the White Fang will need some places to rest that are further from home. Odds are, by the time you've handled business in Vacuo, I'll be directing from a new headquarters." She drifted off for a moment as they walked, giving Arthur time to whistle for Famine. He heard the horse's answering whinny, though who knew quite where the animal was coming from. He was mysterious when left alone. "I hate saying goodbye. Especially after all the progress we've made." The two continued up the main street, getting closer to the pier even as the distant sound of galloping hooves reached their ears.

The market was thinner than the last time they'd walked it together, as most of Kuo Kuana's citizens were preparing for supper at home. A few wayward shoppers still browsed the open stalls, but most of the Faunus had gone home for the day. As such, only the harbormaster was anywhere near the village's pier. The small, mousy old man stayed in a small shack next to the southernmost dock, and it was there that Arthur and Sienna made their way. Arthur knocked on the door and was prepared to wait, but Sienna just stepped past him and strode right into the little office. The windows were shuttered and reinforced, likely in case of a severe storm, though the old wooden architecture made Arthur think that the whole building would go if the sea started shipping green. The gray haired old man sat behind a chest high counter, where several log books and an old computer sat ready to plot and plan for ships that came and went. A blackboard next to the counter indicated the recent arrivals and departures, and there was a passenger ship coming to Kuo Kuana in two hours.

"Ah, I didn't see you there Leader Khan. Welcome." The old man greeted, his eyes magnified by bottle thick spectacles. Sienna nodded in greeting as well, then gestured toward Arthur.

"My friend here seeks passage to the mainland. Could you arrange that for him, please?" Arthur crossed his arms and waited as the old man meticulously consulted his logs, drawing his finger across the pages as he searched for relevant information.

"Yes, I believe the incoming cutter could take him. Their return trip was only for a few travelers and some shipments of rum, so I'm sure the captain could abide an additional passenger."

"And what about a horse?" The harbormaster paused at the odd request, and considered it with some thought. While he did so, Sienna offered a teasing smirk Arthur's way, and he could only shake his head. When was she going to stop giving him hell about Famine? Honestly, she acted like horse riding was an outdated concept.

"That, err, might take some more convincing." The mousy little man shifted his papers around. "His original cargo was livestock when he made port in Shiroyama, so he should have the amenities available. There is usually a boarding cost based on weight, however. Standard charge is one hundred lien for animals larger than fifty pounds." Arthur whistled in surprise at that, knowing full well that his wallet couldn't support a venture like that. Famine was expensive, not to mention all the things he kept on the horse. His camping gear, the Relic of Choice, his weapons...

"Sounds like you're traveling light this time, cowboy." Sienna commented. "Normally I'd cover it, but on such short notice, I don't really have the funds either." Arthur waved it off with a weary sigh. As much as he loved Famine, he wasn't dependent on the Arabian. He could travel without him, as long as Sienna was willing to keep up with the mischievous creature.

"If you could keep him, that would be appreciated." Arthur said with a bow. Sienna acted as if she would consider it, then nodded with a small smile.

"I suppose I can look after him. He is kinder company than his rider, at any rate." Arthur sent her a betrayed look. Thirty minutes later, the harbormaster was paid for the trip to Shiroyama, and Arthur had transferred as many things from Famine's saddle to himself as he could handle. It would be a little slower, traveling while burdened, but Sienna assured him that there were regular trucks traveling from the port to Vacuo. The most tedious part of his journey would be getting from Shiroyama to the coast of Vacuo. That, and figuring out just how in God's name John had managed to get captured right off the damn bat!

* * *

The first punch didn't so much wake John up as it did make him aware of his the surroundings. The second one, though? That got his eyes open real quick. A third turned his head to the side for good measure, and this time he choked out a cough. The mysterious slugger stepped back, though the bright light behind him cast the man in shadow. John blinked wearily and looked around, trying to figure out where he was and who exactly he was dealing with. Were these Del Lobos, or maybe O'Driscolls? Whatever weird voodoo Summer had used to get them there left him wondering, but there were a whole bunch of folks looking to knock his teeth out.

"We've been looking for you for some time, cowpoke." The interrogator rasped, and John spit a globule of blood onto the floor. Man, that name sucked.

"Who the hell's we? You got a mouse in yer pocket?" John jeered, and got a harsh slap that turned him the other way as a reward. Alright, this guy had a temper on him. Good to know.

"You got a lot of nerve, showing your face back here. After what you did, you're lucky the boss didn't just gut you and leave you for the Grimm." Grimm? Back here? This was his first time in Vacuo. Unless they had renamed New Austin and filled it full of animal people, John was fairly certain he'd never set foot in this town. He worked his wrists behind him, trying to get past the ropes that bound them.

"I think you got the wrong fella. I ain't never been in these parts before." John said with a grin, his scars from the wolf encounter stretching as he did. "And I certainly ain't done nothing to you."

"Don't play dumb with me." The man backhanded him, and nearly knocked him onto the dusty floor. John groaned after that one, the pain in his jaw causing some tears to sting his eyes. That one smarted. The man made a move to continue the beating, but a knock on the door made him pause. The interrogator stepped back to answer the door, letting John see his back. The man had a red shirt with a collar and a leather vest, the sleeves shortened to above his elbow. His hair was gray, like if he were fifty years old, but from the look of him he couldn't be over thirty. John hoped he got trench foot.

"How goes the questioning, Mr. Black?" A man asked, his voice one of an aristocrat. The interrogator, now named Mr. Black, stepped back and allowed a new man into the room. This one was quite tall, broad in the shoulders and deep in the chest. He wore a tan suit over a white shirt, and presumably pleated slacks as well. His brown hair was streaked with gray and close cropped, and his hawkish gaze fell on John. Though he was smiling, there was no warmth in the expression.

"He's a stubborn fool, this one. Swears that he's never been here before." Black reported, his face still shadowed by the hanging light bulb. The suited man cocked a brow at that, then stepped a little closer to examine John. Without his hat, there was no way to hinder the action, but John just winced and tried to look determined. On the inside, he was trying to figure out how to get out of this situation. The last time anyone in the gang had survived a kidnapping like this, Arthur had gotten a shotgun put to his shoulder. Hopefully he wouldn't have to go to that length. The suited man peered at him for a few more minutes, then closed his eyes and sighed heavily. He stood up and stepped back toward the door, motioning for the interrogator to follow. When they stood up, the suited man spoke quietly, but John could still hear them speak.

"Mr. Black, I believe we have the wrong man." The suited man said slowly, causing the interrogator to blanch and look at John harder, as if there were some secret characteristic that he'd missed.

:"You said to look for a man in a wide brim hat with dark hair and facial scars. This man matches that description, Mr. Winchester." Black defended, and the suited man stood up to his full height as he looked down on the interrogator.

"And obviously you are mistaken. I saw the man with my own eyes, and this is not him. The degenerate that ruined my reputation is older than this man, and had lighter hair." Winchester turned to face John, already moving to untie the ropes himself. "I am terribly sorry for the confusion, sir. My associate owes you an apology, and I hope you will keep this between us." John's wrists came free and he immediately stood from the chair and placed his back to the wall, facing both men with a displeased expression. His holster was empty and his knife was gone, but that didn't mean he was defenseless. And he had a score to settle now.

"Kiss my ass! Now that I ain't tied like a hog, let's see how rough you are!" He brought up his fists and advanced on Black, who looked more than willing to pick up where they had left off. Were it not for Winchester stepping between them, they would have come to blows. "You kidnapped me! And took me away from my family! You think I'm just gonna take that lying down?"

"All I'm asking is that you let me explain myself. We are searching for a dangerous criminal, and as you just heard you fit the rough description." Winchester kept himself between the two men, and slowly they stood down. John was far from pacified, however.

"If you don't let me go right now, I'll knock every tooth you have down your throat." John snarled menacingly, his long hair falling across his face as he glared daggers at Black. The man's broad nose just begged to be broken, and he looked far too confident to just be a push over. He had some skill, and John was ready to test it. There would be no catching him by surprise this time.

"Alright, alright. We'll let you go. In fact, I have an associate outside that was inquiring about you. If you'll come with me, I'm sure we can get this all sorted out." Winchester kept using that same calming tone, but John's tail was up and he was spitting mad. The door opened at Winchester's insistence, however, and the next slew of curses died on John's tongue. It was like he was seeing a ghost.

"Looking good there, English! How's the missus?"

* * *

Writing this from D.C. My throat hurts, the police unity tour is under way, and there are 50,000 of my brothers and sisters here in the city. It's a big get together to celebrate the fallen and remember those that are no longer with us. Also beer.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:**In case you guys didn't figure it out, Sean McGuire is back from the dead! But how can this be? How did he get here? Is Remnant some kind of afterlife for America? We'll get more into it later, but it's a major plot point so I can't spoil too much now. Got good feedback from everyone on the weapons, and we've come to the end of the Eye of the Tiger arc. Arthur and Sienna have separated for an extensive amount of time, and will likely be different people when they meet again. And we didn't even get a goodbye kiss...it's almost as if they don't consider romantic feelings towards each other. Damn.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"That there's an old friend of mine, Sammy." Sean McGuire stepped further into the room to stand behind Winchester and Black. The two of them looked between John and the newcomer warily, but John was so surprised that he could only stand, slack-jawed, and stare at the ghost from his past. He hadn't been in Rhodes when Sean had been shot, but Arthur and Bill both confirmed that he had been dead and buried. Judging by how he stood in front of John with the same cocky grin he had always worn, that had been a lie.

But then again, Sean was not the same. He had aged, the youthful shape of his face hardened and more lean. Where his left eye had been, mottled and scarred flesh met with smooth steel, and the entire left side of his eye was covered in metal. The eye itself was a single red light, about two inches wide and an inch long and staring out at John like the devil himself. His bowler hat had been traded for a wider, flat town hat. The green shotgun coat and unbuttoned green vest remained the same, though he had the propriety to wear a bow tie and button his shirt.

"How..." John began, but the sheer shock stopped him from forming any further words. Sean laughed loudly and clapped his hands, just as he had always done, and pointed at the dumbfounded look on John's face.

"Ha ha! Yeah, the last you heard of me I was under the weather, eh English? Well, let's just say I know a few fellas." He held up a finger to his lips as he clapped, a subtle motion born from years of fooling foppish morons and gullible lawmen alike. He'd explain the rest later. Still, John was glad to see a familiar face. With the signal received, Sean clapped a hand on the shoulders of Black and Winchester each.

"I've only been in town for a few days, and I've already heard the news. Some horse fucking cowboy came along and mucked things up right for you, eh Sammy?" It was clear Winchester detested the name 'Sammy', though he made a halfhearted attempt to hide it. Black was under no such compulsion and sneered at the mere touch of the Irishman. Just from that interaction right there, however, John could assume that either Sean or someone that he represented was a very powerful person. It was the same grudging respect allowed whenever Dutch had walked into the room. The two didn't like Sean, but they wouldn't cross him unless it was worth a fight.

"Yes, that is true Mister McGuire." Winchester said stiffly, his eyes following Sean as he stepped by and appraised John of his injuries. Sean poked and prodded at John's bruised face, causing the other outlaw to smack his hand out of the way and glare at him. Sean shrugged off John's anger just as easily as he had always done, but Marston still couldn't fathom how he was standing in front of him. And what was with the metal eye? "We thought this man was the culprit, but obviously we were mistaken. You say that you know him?" Sean leaned in like he was examining more wounds, but John heard him speak softly. _Follow my lead._ With that he turned around, leaving John to decide whether he participated in whatever farce that Sean was about to concoct, or he could figure his own way out of the dark interrogation room in a building he wasn't familiar with.

"This is my boy, Johnny! We go way back, the poor bum. I remember stealing teeth from old ladies with this chap." Sean clapped John on the shoulder roughly and chuckled, and John noticed the way that Winchester stiffened when Sean said that the two went back. Whatever position Sean had made for himself, it was enough to give this suit pause. The interrogator Black was less affected, but he clearly wasn't about to upset his employer anymore than he already had. Sean had only just arrived, and he already had them on the back foot. A big change from the loudmouth Irishman he'd known.

"Sean always had my back, even when we had our disagreements." John agreed. "It's been a while, hasn't it Sean?" The more comfortable with each other they seemed, the more pressure was put on Winchester. And judging by the pinched look on his face, the man was feeling it.

"Now, you will be sure to tell Junior that we made a mistake." Winchester began, and Sean ceased his wandering around the room to focus on the shipping magnate. "Obviously we accosted the wrong man, but there is no harm in letting bygones be bygones, is there?" It was a request, and just a few horse hairs shy of a plea, but Sean was nodding along with it.

"Aye, I see no reason to make a mess of things over a little disagreement. Whadaya tink, Johnny boy? Leave these fellas to their business?" Sean turned and tossed John his hat and weapons, which had been sitting in a chair next to the wall. John sheathed his knife and holstered his pistol with a twirl, then placed his hat back on his head. The whole time, his burning glare never left Black. John walked up until he was face to face with the man, though Black did not flinch. He held the stare for a few moments, then hit Black as hard as he could in the chin with a right cross. The man must have been expecting it because it felt like he'd struck a brick wall, but it was still enough to put the hired gun on one knee. John shook out his hand once, already feeling the telltale signs of swelling as he did so.

"Now we're good. Next time, make sure you got the right guy before you tie him to a chair." John snarled, and followed Sean out the door. He heard Black curse, but found a small amount of amusement in the fact that Winchester made no move to help him. The door led to the lobby of some shipping store, judging by the pictures of vehicles and packages on the walls. A nervous store clerk sat outside, a blonde man that was far too focused on writing on a clipboard for what the action required. He adamantly refused to make eye contact with John, and Sean ignored him altogether. The Irishman shoved the doors to the shop open, and John stepped out once more into the blinding sunlight. They were still in Vacuo, judging by the dusty streets and the shifty gazes on the populace, but John didn't recognize it from their initial introduction to the city. Sean seemed perfectly at home in the desert city, and took a sharp left turn without even a word to the outlaw following him. John did his best to keep up with the blistering pace that Sean set, his gaze lingering on McGuire's artificial eye the entire time. Even from behind and with Sean's messy hair, John still still see the metal plate gleaming in the sun. A million questions buzzed in his mind, not the least of which how Sean was still alive and not rotting in a grave outside of Rhodes.

Before John could even think to stop Sean and ask him just what in the hell was going on, they had cut down two streets and ducked into an alleyway. Sean was moving with a purpose, clearly trying to get as far away from the shop as possible. If John didn't believe that it was for good reason, he'd have stopped the red haired man a long time ago and demanded answers. The alleyway was shaded and quiet, stuck between two store fronts. It ended with a wall where the stores butted up against a normal building, but besides a couple bags of trash they were alone. Only then did Sean turn around, and for the first time in the few minutes that John had seen him, the easy cheer dropped from his face. Sean aged ten years in an instant, and it cut off the furious tirade that John had in store for him.

"Been awhile, eh John?" Sean asked, and his red artificial eye rotated slightly to focus on him. John held his hands outward at his sides, gesturing around them and looking incredulously at Sean.

"Been awhile? Me and my family get dumped off into this weird place, you're back from the dead, and all I get is 'been awhile'?!" John jabbed a finger at Sean, who took it without offense or remorse. "You've got ten seconds to explain just what the hell is going on before I start swinging." He demanded the answers, though it wasn't so much out of anger as it was fear and confusion. So much was going against how John saw the world in so short of a time, he didn't really know how to take it. And where did Arthur factor into all of this? Summer had claimed that she was friends with him, and the men that had snatched him were after another man wearing similar clothing that had disrupted some shady operations. If that didn't fit Arthur to a tee, then John would eat his hat.

"Alright, alright. Keep your knuckles to yourself. It'd do you more harm than good anyway." Sean fluttered his fingers in the air, and John was amazed to see an odd shimmer cover them, like a film of white light. John started to ask, but Sean continued to speak. "I got to this freaky place about a year ago now, though I can't really say how. One minute, I was walking down the street in Rhodes with Arthur and the boys, the next...nothing. I can't remember what happened after that, only that someone carried me. There were voices, true, but my noggin wasn't exactly put together if you catch my drift." He tapped the metal frame around his eye in emphasis.

"Arthur said you were shot in the head. He watched you bleed all over the ground with a goddamn hole in your face!" John backed away from the Irishman, unsure if he himself was dead or not. Sean held up a hand to stall him, then pointed at his prosthetic eye once more.

"I didn't exactly come out if unscathed, brother. Unless you thought this was some kind of fashion statement. All I know is, I woke up in the city of Vale with a huge headache and this stuck in me skull. I wasn't asked if I wanted a piece of metal in my head that acts like an eye and bleeding talks to me!" A hint of desperation crept into his voice, and Sean's easy going demeanor was replaced by one of fear. "I was told that I got dropped off by a man with Atlas, and to get off the fucking road. No how are you, no one giving three shits if I was alive or dead. And not a single person knew how to help me get back to the gang. So, I did what I do best. I survived. I found work with a local guy that needed muscle, he activated my Aura, and I've been busting heads ever since." There was another word he wasn't familiar with. Aura. What the hell was that about?

"You say that like it's supposed to mean something. Aura? What the hell are you talking about?" Sean flexed his hand, and once again the strange light covered the limb right in front of John's eyes. Sean grinned toothily, and the light faded.

"The people around here managed to find a way to weaponize all that is man, my friend. Your soul doesn't just ride around in your chest until Judgment Day, Johnny boy! Here, you can make it work for you." Eager to test it, Sean turned around and punched the nearest wall. A loud crack pierced the air, but instead of drawing back bloodied knuckles and a broken hand, Sean stepped back to not only reveal that his hand was fine, but there was an inch and a half indentation in the wall where he had struck it. Sean waved his hand in front of himself to show off the lack of injury, and John could only remove his hat and stare. It was impossible, the talk of medicine men and monks alike, and yet John had witnessed it himself.

"How...I don't even know what to ask. How the hell can you do that? Where did you learn? Can everyone here do it?" Before he could let his confusion and curiosity lead him further down that rabbit hole, another fear gripped him. "Wait, forget all that. Where's Abigail and Jack? Are they safe?" To his disappointment, Sean merely shrugged his shoulders.

"No idea, Johnny Boy. I came looking for Arthur and found you. I was as surprised as you are. But if your missus is still around here, they'll likely be near the market district. Most unfortunate souls wind up there. What I have to ask you, John, is what you're willing to do now that you're here." Sean reached forward and grasped John by the shoulder, startling him. "I've been looking all year, and there's no way back home. I don't even know how you got here, but I do know this. Once you're here, you're here. Now, I've got some real winning work lined up and I know you can do it. But I need you to trust me, lad." Sean's natural eye was open and honest, as unsettling as the other one was. John was already in over his head considering the past eighteen hours. The showdown between the gang and Summer, traveling to Vacuo, and getting kidnapped had all been a bit much, but Sean had been the breaking point. One of those at a time, that would be a bad day, but all of them together finally robbed him of reason.

"I don't give a sweaty ol' FUCK about your work, Sean! I won't set one foot anywhere until I find my family and make sure they're okay!" John grabbed Sean by the collar and shook him. "I don't have a single fucking reason to trust you right now, Sean, you or this weird ass city! Now bring me my family or I will put holes in your goddamned skull!" Sean didn't resist as John shook him, even as the outlaw himself shook with fear and anxiety. The Irishman tolerated his ire for a few more seconds before he used his freakishly increased strength to stop John and push him away. Marston took a few shaky breaths, then his hand dropped to his hip to draw his revolver. Sean watched his hand dropped, and then suddenly he wasn't there anymore.

John had dealt with some fast people in his life, usually cutthroats and pickpockets. He'd learned to track the movements of a person and how they would prep for the next action. This wasn't the same. One second Sean had been standing in front of him, the next he was no longer there. Not moving to one side or the other, not ducking out of sight; Sean was completely gone. The sudden change made John freeze, and that extra second was enough for an iron grip to wrap around his wrist. The wall that Sean had punched rushed up to his face as his wrist was wrenched painfully behind his back. John cried out in surprise and pain as he was pressed against the wall. Sean's hat fell off to the side past John, but he couldn't turn around thanks to the Irishman's freakish strength. The two had wrestled back at camp, a way to pass the time and stay fit, and back then the fight had not been this one sided.

"I don't make these offers lightly, Johnny Boy. I can't stress enough how in over our heads we are. This world plays by different rules, and I've done a bang up job staying alive here. I'm offering to help you and your family, but you gotta listen to me. Draw on me like that again, and we'll be fightin' for real." The pressure on his wrist slackened and Sean stepped back, allowing John to turn around and face the Irishman. His artificial eye burned red as Sean stared John down, and the outlaw couldn't help but turn his head. This wasn't the young gun that shot his mouth off and cut up with the gang at every opportunity, eager to prove himself to Dutch and the others. This Sean was different, in more ways than just physical. He'd been forced to change, and judging by the way he'd outmaneuvered John's draw it wasn't by choice. Sean was dangerous now, and he'd become dangerous to stay alive. That wasn't the story Summer had told them, and hopefully that wasn't the one that Arthur was living. But still, first things first.

"I got out of all that shit. As long as Abby and Jack are okay, I won't have to pull the trigger ever again." He took a breath, and his brain finally caught up to his mouth. "But I guess you tried that too, didn't you?" Sean nodded and stooped to pick up his hat, then John heard a strange metallic click. When the Irishman finished donning his hat, there was a cigarette in his mouth, and a strange contraption holding a flame. He lit it and took a deep drag on the cig, then closed the lighter with a flick of his wrist.

"This eye of mine didn't come cheap, you know. I got stuck with the bill to an expensive Atlesian doctor, and I've been working to pay it off ever since. It's part of why I got into the underground in Vale. I'm offering you a slice of the work because there's no ranching in this world that you could do. Things are too different." Sean took another drag, and John noticed that he didn't offer one to him. Yeah, he was pissed about the draw. "The only thing you and I know to do is fight and steal Johnny Boy, and there's no honest work that falls under that category. If you want to feed the kid, you're going to have to get dirty again."

"I ain't afraid of a little work, but my family comes first. If that's what it takes, then I'll do it. But are you sure that you can trust the people you're working for? I ain't gonna put Abby and Jack at risk if they're too dirty to deal with."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it, but first off let's go find the lad and lass." Sean took one last puff on the cigarette and flicked it away, not caring that half of it was left. "I'll check the usual places and be back in a moment." John turned to walk out with him, and suddenly he was aware that he was alone. There was no sound, nothing to tell him that Sean had gone. There was just an absence, made noticeable by years of instincts when something was behind you. John turned back to where Sean had been, but the Irishman was nowhere to be found. _What the hell is this?_ The outlaw thought to himself as he scratched his cheek. There passed a few moments of silence as John considered heading out on his own while Sean worked his brand of craziness, but the decision was taken from him when he heard the lighter open once more. Leaning up against the wall, Sean stood as if he'd never left. He lit another cigarette, and this time looked to keep this one as he dragged on it more slowly.

"They're over close to Dusty Oasis, ironically enough. Seems Abigail is fit to be tied, you lucky bugger. I'd hate to be a fly on the wall when she sees you again." John looked at him quizzically, and Sean grinned like he was privy to some secret joke. "Go ahead, ask Uncle Sean how he does it. I can see it eating at you."

"How in the hell did you do that?" John rasped, and Sean took the cigarette from his mouth and grinned widely. "You just disappeared. You did it before, too!" It had been how he'd gotten behind John. Sean puffed on his cig once more, then waved toward the street.

"It's called a Semblance, Johnny Boy, and I'll tell you all about them on the way. Maybe you'll get lucky and get one too. But right now, we need to find that woman of yours before she tears down the walls." Sean led the way out of the alley, and John did his best to follow, keeping close to the dead man on the streets of the magical city. Neither one of them noticed the black bird that sat above them, it's eye glowing red from within a white mask.

* * *

_"Still no response?"_ Sienna's face was blurred by the distance and his older scroll, but he could still see the sympathy in her expression. The ship to Vacuo was much smaller than the one they had taken to Menagerie, but that also meant they were moving faster too. It would only take three days to reach the Kingdom this time, and Arthur was glad for the expedience.

"None. I know Abby probably ain't used to all this technology, but I won't rule anything out until I get eyes on 'em. How are things on your end?" He still regretting running out before she took over the White Fang, good reason or not. She'd worked hard to get to where she was, and seeing her in action would have been a real treat. Still, after he got the Marston problem handled, he could come back and visit.

_"Slow going, though it can't be helped at this point." _Sienna said with a sigh. _"There are a lot of people that have pledged to Ghira for support, and they must travel to Menagerie to pledge themselves to me. If they do not, then it is my responsibility to find out why and try to win them over."_ From her face, it would be a loathsome task. Arthur couldn't but think that it was better her than him; he wasn't the most diplomatic of folks.

"I'm sure they'll see reason. The Lady Khan has her head on straight, unlike some of these yahoos." Arthur grinned again. "When I get done here, you'll have to show me around your new headquarters." If it was going to be built to her specifications, then he knew it would be spartan and strong, like the woman herself. Besides the little trinket he'd given her and a few treasured photos, Sienna didn't really decorate her home much. Too expensive to serve no purpose, or something along those lines.

_"That's if we even get it built. I'm already facing opposition in the form of the Lupin brothers. They believe that Menagerie is the seat of Faunus power, and should be the host of the White Fang. They don't understand that we protect our people by separating ourselves from them. It will be a trying experience, convincing them to shift. But I WILL move them."_ The conviction in her voice was intoxicating, and Arthur was reminded once again that she was leader material and he was not. Sienna seemed born for the role of leader, as dedicated as she was to her people and her duty. Arthur was used to looking out for himself and a few others, but the entirety of the White Fang? He'd rather piss into a strong wind, because that's what it would wind up being like anyway.

"I have no doubt. Keep me updated, and take care of yourself Sienna. I plan on making it up to you for missing your big day." He wasn't sure how he'd do it, but seeing her face dust with red was worth it anyway.

_"I...will keep that in mind. Be safe, Arthur. Try not to fight anymore sea dragons."_ She said, ignoring his previous comment. _"And do take care of yourself. You seem to get into more trouble than is required at times." _Considering he hadn't even managed to tell her half of the tales from America, Sienna had no idea just how true that statement was.

"No promises. I'll see ya when I see ya." With that, he closed the scroll and ended the call. He leaned against the railing to allow a few more sailors to cross behind him, and in doing so they jostled the weapons on his back. His shotgun was slung over his left shoulder, chambered for Dust rounds thanks to Brok and Sindri, while his rifle had the same treatment and was on his right. The Deal Breaker was fastened to his belt and hung from the middle of his back. The extra weight on his back was manageable, but it was also a little bulky. He was also carrying rounds for all three, as well as the Peacemaker, and that was the real hassle. It also earned him some wayward looks from other passengers, but they eventually ignored him as a Huntsman or something similar.

Abigail had been a welcome sight at first, but the day and a half at sea had put into perspective just how worrisome it was to see her like he had. Abby and Jack were the closest thing to innocents in the gang, and they had been dropped into Vacuo to fend for themselves. Losing John on top of that must have taken a heavy toll on the woman. And on that note, John's disappearance didn't ring like a coincidence. Had it happened in Mistral or Atlas, Arthur could have written it off as merely chance. But compared to the wide and colorful varieties that people dressed in Remnant, Marston could be considered similar to Arthur. Another man dressed like a cowboy walking around a city where he and Sienna had caused a ruckus? That could have only been bad news. Either way, Arthur had a lead to follow when he reached the city: Commissioner Redfield. The leader of the Vacuo police force had an axe to grind with Sam Winchester. That made him useful, and hopefully the goodwill that came from Sienna's cooperation would do him some good. Of course, that also meant that he had to be careful. Suits like Winchester weren't the type to take a slight lying down, and Arthur stuck out like a sore thumb. Probably the reason John had been nabbed to start with.

_At least I left Famine behind._ The horse would have been infinitely useful for hauling his things, but he also made it hard to blend in. All Arthur had to do to slip by most sentries would be to take off his hat and blend in with the crowd. And when he reached the city, that was his full intention; slip in, find the Marstons, and be gone by the time anyone came looking for them. It was so simple, it couldn't go wrong.

"But, just to be safe." He muttered to himself, and opened his scroll once more. He dialed the number that Abigail had called him from and watched as it rang, split between hoping she would answer and expecting that she would not. It baffled him, really, that she could figure out how to call him when John went missing, but she couldn't be bothered to answer afterwards. It didn't bode well for their general well-being. Given how new and alien Remnant would be to a woman like Abigail, she would have been jumping at a chance to speak with Arthur. That she was silent implied that she was either captured or constantly occupied by something more important.

Arthur put the scroll away with a sigh and stood up from the rail, stretching as much as his added weight would allow. There were roughly eighteen hours between him and the coast, and Arthur planned on being well rested when he arrived. If he timed it right, a little social interaction with the crew would leave him with enough time to sleep and hop off the ship well rested. With that in mind, he set off for the cabin he had been assigned, though this one was shared with two other passengers as well. A man and his daughter, apparently in transit from Atlas of all places. Why the two of them had taken such a roundabout way was both beyond his reasoning and not his business, but it prevent Arthur from leaving his weapons in his room. He doubted that the little girl would actually do anything, but the safer he was the better.

"Apologies, mister Ashari." Arthur greeted as he opened the door. "Figured I'd get some shut eye before we got close to land."

After a long nap and a short game of cards with his roommates (he lost to the little girl, of all things), and Arthur found himself stepping off of the ship and onto a pier he had crossed the desert to reach not a few weeks prior. He still had plenty good reason to move quickly, but unfortunately Famine was of no help this time. Instead he wound up spending lien, a dwindling resource considering his purchases on Menagerie, to ride a truck into the city. The ride itself wasn't much to write home about, maybe a little bumpy compared to riding Famine, but the late night made crossing the desert rather spooky. The sky was a deep, dark blue, and the only light besides the headlights on the truck came from the shattered moon that still baffled Arthur to this day. Every hill and turn was a surprise, it seemed, and it made him clutch the belt that kept him fastened to the seat.

The other benefit was that they crossed the desert in a single night, as opposed to the eighteen hours it had taken him and Sienna. It also probably helped that the truck itself was not being pursed by the law. By the time they pulled in outside of the city, dawn was only just beginning to peek over the horizon. The guards at the city gate once again gave him an odd look, but Arthur stowed his hat in his satchel and tightened the slings on his weapons. Looking more like an armed traveler than the man that had tweaked the nose of a local crime lord, he made it into Vacuo without much trouble.

Once he was past the western gate, Arthur pulled his scroll once more and tried to call Abigail again. He walked as it rang, trying to get out of the center of the street. A storefront had a wooden bench that looked all too inviting, and Arthur planted himself down before any early morning risers could steal the seat. When he settled his considerable weight down onto the bench, the call finally rang through after three days of missed calls. Abigail's face was dirty and frightened, but she was still alive.

_"Arthur? Is that you?"_ Abby breathed out, and Arthur could see two other shadows behind her. Wherever they were, it was still dark even in the advent of the early morning. There were also two adults with her and not one, since Jack was too small to cast a shadow at his height.

"Finally answered the damn call. Where have you been, girl?" Arthur chastised. "You've had me scared half to death the whole way here." As he finished speaking, the other two people behind Abigail turned to face the scroll as well. One was John Marston, his friend and looking a bit haggard and over his head, per usual. The other...the other was impossible. Arthur's eyes widened and his mouth went dry, and were he standing he would have surely dropped his scroll. Sean McGuire looked back at him on the little display, his left eye replaced by a mechanical prosthetic. The dead man grinned widely at Arthur's disbelief, and that same Irish accent he had long since given up on came over the scroll's speakers.

_"There ye are, English! I've been hearing about your tales for days now!"_ Sean leaned in closer to Abby to get a better look, and to further show off his new feature. _"Did you miss me, old timer?"_ A million things ran through his head, all of them denied by his leaden tongue. He'd seen Sean die, shot through the head in an ambush. Even with the miracle doctors in Remnant, there was no way in hell they could bring back the dead...and yet, there he was.

"How...Sean?! How in the hell are you-" Arthur cut off his own tirade as he looked around, suddenly aware of how much attention he would attract yelling into his scroll at five in the morning. He was still a somewhat wanted man in this town, and getting captured by Winchester's men wouldn't do the Marstons a lick of good. "What the hell happened? I saw you die." Arthur whispered insistently. Sean rolled his eye – the normal one – and tossed his chin towards Abigail.

_"We've got bigger problems right now, Arthur. I'll tell you all about it later. For now, see if you can meet us near Shade Academy. Apparently, there are some local boys trying to take you out."_ Sean knew about the Winchesters? Then again, Arthur had no idea exactly how long the Irishman had been around Vacuo, only that the last time he'd seen him had been ten months ago in Rhodes. If he'd somehow recovered and managed to get to Remnant – and the how on that was also a mystery – then he was more savvy with Huntsmen and Grimm than Arthur was. He had context for how the world worked, and who the major players were.

"Alright. I can meet up with you, try to get our bearings. Got any ideas about a safe place?" Sean looked around again, and Arthur could hear John say something to Jack. Abigail remained silent to let Sean take the lead, and he seemed to consider the city and its various establishments.

_"There's a bar over near the academy grounds that is open in the mornings. He usually leaves the door open so everyone that got keelhauled the night before can stumble out. Shoddy types like us will fit right in. But be careful, English! There's a man in town by the name of Marcus Black. He already grabbed John, and we know he's looking for you. He's a right sod, but he's used to hunting down Huntsmen and Huntresses. Avoid the alleys and don't trust the police, except maybe that Redfield fella." _Sean handed the scroll back to Abigail. _"Look for Tapster's, it should be on your map. We'll be there as soon as we lose this tail."_ Abigail looked around fearfully, the poor woman, but the same resolve that had gotten them from Blackwater to Vacuo was still evident in her voice.

_"We'll get through this, Arthur. Be careful!"_ With that, she closed her scroll, and Arthur was looking at his home screen. Thunder echoed in his ears as he reeled from the call, still in disbelief of what he had just seen. Not only was Sean McGuire still alive, but he was thriving in Vacuo it seemed. Apart from the mechanical eye and the sober look on his face, Sean looked far better than the last time Arthur had seen him; slumped over the back of Bill's horse with a hole in his head.

"This just keeps getting stranger." Arthur muttered. The sun had already climbed above the horizon while he'd been on his call, and more people were out and about. Given Sean's warning about Marcus Black and Sam Winchester, the morning foot traffic had a far more sinister implication on the outlaw. There were so many possible enemies between himself and Shade Academy, the original location that Summer had recommended for him. Arthur pulled up the map on his scroll, and Shade Academy was proudly displayed on the northern part of the city. It was a large, walled compound if the map was to be trusted, and about twenty blocks away.

That was a lot of road between the gate and salvation. Even when he reached the Academy and Tapster's itself, he'd still need to be vigilant until they were out of Vacuo entirely. Basically, he had to treat the city as if the O'Driscolls were in charge. As few main roads as possible, stay away from popular stores and parks, and do his damnedest to stay unnoticed. No one had noticed him yet, as far as he could tell, and Arthur intended on keeping it that way. With a game plan in mind, Arthur stood from the bench and ducked down a side street. He hugged the wall of the store, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone more suspicious than he was. It was a long way to the Academy, but he'd make it. One street at a time.

Sean had said to avoid the alleys, but Arthur had no choice about traversing them. Anyone out to find him just had to watch the main venues, while the alleys were harder to keep under control without a lot of man power. He was banking on Winchester's men being either lazy or disloyal, with a personal hope for both. On top of that, the usual alley dwellers would hopefully shun any of the bigger fish, choosing to stay out of the underworld politics rather than try to curry favor with one warlord over another.

Arthur clung to the shadows street by street, and the sun had climbed higher into the sky by the time he reached Shade Academy. A massive stone courtyard, circular in shape and over one hundred yards from the nearest building, separated Vacuo's prestigious Huntsman academy from the rest of the city. As such, Arthur stepped out into the desert sun and shielded his eyes, squinting past the intense light as he tried to discern the distant shapes. When his eyes slowly adjusted, he couldn't help but gasp in surprise and wonder at the Huntsman academy.

Firstly, the entire complex was massive. Tall spires climbed into the desert sky, narrow towers but plentiful and capped with open windows. The second thing he noticed was that most of the main buildings were sunk into the ground slightly, with every visible entrance stepping down into the earth. Remnant. Whatever. In New Austin, Arthur had seen a few homes built this way so that they would remain cool during the summer months. The last thing that he recognized was the entire place had been built from stone and marble, likely another concession to combat the intense heat of the desert. There were no obvious ways for people to fight off the chill of a desert night, but the massive academy looked like a sunken city. The stones and arches had been cut with a degree of artistic elegance he had never seen in America. Heavy gray stone had been cut and carved to such specifications that it was difficult to see the individual bricks at first glance. There were five main structures and in total, four of them had domes at the top. The fifth was some kind of arena, and probably where students practiced fighting if Arthur was to judge.

In the courtyard leading up to the academy itself, there was a large statue depicting an epic battle. A Deathstalker, pretty much a giant scorpion Grimm, was beset on all sides by four Hunters working together to bring it down. One woman was stabbing a spear down into it from her place on its back, while another Huntress slashed at its legs on its left. A Huntsman far larger than the two Huntresses grappled with the Deathstalker's massive claws. The fourth and final part of the team stood behind them a few good yards, a rifle in his hands and pointed at the creature. Their clothes were reminiscent of normal Vacuo wear, all robes and light cloth with the exception of a shoulder and chest plate on the large Huntsman. The carving was of the same if not even better quality as the Academy, with the details on monster and its attackers ridiculously well crafted. Arthur stood next to the shooting Huntsman and examined his masked face, and could easily see the vein of exertion at the man's temple as he attempted to make every shot count. It was a very impressive construction, and Arthur was so caught up in appreciating its detail and the struggle of the Huntsman and their prey that he almost missed the small plaque carved into the ground next to the shooter. Arthur maneuvered around the statue of the Huntsman to look down on the plaque. It was done in black and gray unlike the rest of the courtyard, which was done in gray stone and the normal sandstone that the rest of Vacuo used.

"The Darkness cannot be stopped by one Huntsman alone. We must light the night together." Arthur murmured, reading the plaque aloud as he looked back up at the statue with new respect. He'd never really considered the struggle between Huntsmen and the Grimm since arriving in this crazy place. But now, as he stood before one of the most prestigious schools on the planet for Huntsmen and Huntresses, the concept of battling creatures of Darkness for the sake of everyone around them had a bit more weight to it. He'd seen and killed Grimm, sure, but the thought of intentionally seeking the creatures out as a full time job gave Arthur the shivers.

So caught up was he in taking in Shade Academy, he didn't notice someone walking up behind him until a hand landed on his shoulder. Arthur tensed and turned, pulling himself out of the stranger's grasp even as he tore Peacekeeper from its holster. His eyes began to glow yellow as he stepped back, creating distance and trying to draw a bead as quickly as possible-

-only for him to see John standing beside him. Arthur stared at his friend, dumb and surprised, even as John laughed and pointed at his revolver.

"Hey, what gives? I ain't seen ya in months, and the first thing you do is draw down on me?" John crossed his arms in a mocking gesture. "Hell, I thought even the great Arthur Morgan was better than that." Arthur let his pistol drop back into his holster from limp fingers, unable to even offer a sarcastic remark to the scarred man like he always had. It had been months since he had last laid eyes on John, the closest thing in the gang he had to a brother, and Marston had gone missing during some bad times. Hosea and Lenny had been shot, the rest of them stranded on an island, his diagnosis of TB... John had been one more tragedy in a whole series of unfortunate events. To have him back, standing in front of him with a grin on his face, told Arthur that things could have been much worse.

"C'mere, you damn fool!" Arthur wrapped his arms around John and crushed him into a hug, surprising the other outlaw with the action. John struggled to free his arms from between the two of them, but Arthur was so glad to finally have something go right that he didn't let up. To any of the other morning commuters walking through Vacuo, the sight of two cowboys hugging it out in front of Shade Academy must have been quite the sight, but Arthur was too glad to care. He'd gotten his brother back. John, on the other hand, was startled to get such a warm and personal reaction from the man he'd nagged and rivaled since he was a boy.

"Arthur, what the hell?" John asked, embarrassed as he finally won free from the older man's embrace. "This place must have rotted your brains, old timer. You never used to give out hugs." It was mostly a retort to get some distance, but John didn't seem that averse to it. He was glad to see Arthur as well. The older smirked and pulled his hat from his satchel, dusting it off and placing it on his head as he looked around for Tapster's.

"Believe it or not, I'm actually glad to see you for once, wolf bait. It's been..." Arthur sighed heavily as his thoughts went to the past few months. "It's been hell." John snorted at the vague description and brushed off his shoulder, turning toward the far side of the courtyard that was opposite from the direction Arthur had arrived from.

"Things haven't exactly been easy for us, Arthur. You left behind one hell of a mess." John tossed back, and Arthur followed in confusion. Yeah, things with the gang had been souring ever since the robbery in Saint Denis, but Arthur could hardly be faulted for leaving because he suffered from a deadly and contagious disease. John didn't _seem_ too broken up about his departure, but only time would tell. Like Arthur himself, Marston kept his feelings close to his chest.

"I am sorry for all of that, believe me." Arthur shook his head and jogged a bit to catch up with his friend. "If I could have done things differently, I would have. But with that damn TB, I couldn't afford to stick around for long. If Jack really had it too, then that tells me I didn't leave soon enough." John grunted in what Arthur took to be agreement, and soon they were marching across the courtyard shoulder to shoulder. John slowed down to allow it, and together the two walked in companionable silence. As the buildings outside of Shade Academy's exclusive courtyard drew closer, another thought occurred to Arthur.

"Did Sean say how he got here? Unless Summer just goes around kidnapping outlaws and saving them from death, he got here a different way than we did." Summer had also been terrified to allow people to know she was still alive. Dumping a walking mouth like Sean McGuire in the nearest town was a poor way to keep that secret.

"Nah, and he seems real interested in Summer for some reason. I told him a woman saved us from the dust up with the Marshals, but we didn't have time to talk. Apparently, some of Winchester's men still thought that I was you, so they've been following us for a while." Sean was asking about Summer? A little strange, though he could chalk it up to regular ol' curiosity. Still, her plea to remain anonymous made Sean's questions unwelcome, though the Irishman himself couldn't know that.

The storefront of Tapster's looked like any other bar Arthur would get thrown out of, and he could already see the green shotgun coat of a man he thought dead. Sean's back was turned, though he likely knew that they had arrived thanks to Abigail's shining smile. John stepped in and held the door for Arthur, waiting expectantly even as the older outlaw slowed to a halt. Everything was going so well, between Sienna getting the position she had sought and meeting up with the Marstons again, even Sean had been a welcome surprise. But as he stepped into the bar toward the others, Arthur couldn't shake the ominous feeling that something was wrong.

* * *

There was something about fame and success that seemed to bring the worst to your door. Or at least, that was the sentiment Sienna had as she clutched her scroll angrily. Beside her, Adam sharpened Wilt in anticipation, bracing the blade across his knee as he stropped with a whetstone. Ghira had not been present when the fateful message had appeared on her scroll. Two simple words, but considering who they had come from, she was lucky it had not been a boastful paragraph to burn her retinas.

_Expect us._

"He's never been interested in White Fang politics before." Adam pointed out. Sienna knew he was just trying to make her feel better, a strange but welcome sentiment from the teen. Still, it did not make his statement any less false.

"Only because he held no sway over Ghira. With me at the head of the organization, my _dear brother_ believes himself capable of altering the fate of Faunus everywhere." Sienna's teeth glinted as she snarled, causing Adam to cease his preparation. To call him her brother was a stretch, as he was only an adoptive sibling at best. Still, her lineage was murky and difficult to track down given how soon she had been orphaned. Whereas she had gone to thievery and survival in the cities, her brother had taken to the raiding gangs that roamed Mistral's wilderness. Her strength had come from working together with her Faunus brethren, whereas his had come from brute force. The Outlanders were coming to Menagerie, and she knew there would only be a few days to prepare.

"He'll challenge you for the right to lead? Doesn't he realize that's not how this works?" Adam commented, sheathing his sword in favor of crossing his arms and hearing out her frustrations. It was something the previous Adam would not have done, and she had both Arthur and herself to thank for that. Still, he truly did not know her brother if he was asking such question.

"It has worked for him all of his life. Challenge the leader to become the leader. Since bandits rarely have their Aura activated, it only makes sense that he rose through the ranks quickly." Sienna sneered at her brother's hubris. "His power has always been above those around him, and it has made him an arrogant and prideful man." The last time she had seen him, however, at least a small portion of his boastful claims had been true. Who knew how strong he had become since the last time they had crossed paths? And so soon after she had ascended...

There was a mole in the White Fang. If not one of her brother's Outlanders specifically, then someone who knew her connection and how to contact them. To see her deposed would suit only a few that she could think of at the moment, but there were enough that a culprit did not immediately come to mind. She had time, perhaps, to seek them out before the Outlanders arrived. But the damage was done, no matter what she found.

"Investigate the Lupin brothers and see if they've made any strange calls or contacts." Adam straightened as Sienna gave the order. He was always willing to act and let her do the planning. Despite his snarky remarks, he was one of her more loyal subordinates. "Be discreet in your questioning. If they are not responsible, I do not want our suspicion to drive them into my brother's arms." Adam nodded, already knowing the best person to ask. Many people discounted her due to her age and particular ability, but Amitola saw far more than she would ever let on. Seeing as how she was a friend of Blake's, Adam doubted he would have any trouble asking her to keep an eye out. He kept his source to himself, however, both to keep from distracting Sienna and to wait for success before he revealed his methods.

As Adam left the meeting room, he was passed by Kali of all people. The Belladonnas had graciously allowed Sienna to continue to use their home as her base of operations until a new headquarters could be selected and constructed in Mistral. Sienna had done her best to keep the White Fang operations to a minimum while Ghira had played host, but she still found herself dirtying his foyer and meeting room with her dealings. Not all of the White Fang operatives she employed were courteous enough to clean after themselves, and Kali was burdened with the ensuing cleanup. Sienna did her best to help and minimize any problems, but between informing distant cells of her new position as Supreme Leader and arranging for combat training to suit her new direction for the White Fang, there wasn't much she had the time or energy to do.

"Hello dear! How goes the uprising?" Despite the fact that Kali was obviously joking, Sienna had to look at her for a few moments before she realized that the Belladonna woman had said something to her without any hidden agenda or insult. When she saw that Kali was just being herself, Sienna could only wince and chastise herself. Only days on the calendar as leader, and she was already jumping at shadows. Her brother's message must have upset more than she'd first realized.

"More difficult than I'd first thought." Sienna admitted freely. The tiger Faunus' ears twitched in frustration, and she couldn't help but ask. "If Ghira had half the troubles I've seen these past few days, then I severely underestimated him as leader." Kali laughed lightly at Sienna's admission, though the shake of her head did reassure Sienna a little.

"Oh no. When Ghira first started the White Fang, he had been surrounded by like minded people, seeking a common cause. Now that it has grown and had time to attract all kinds of people, you must contend with those that seek power more than they wish for equality." Kali said it so casually, Sienna almost missed the disdain hidden in her voice. Despite her persona as a caring housewife, Kali had been just as instrumental in fighting for equality as her husband. His large stature and status and the founder of the White Fang often eclipsed the cat Faunus that was quietly gathering up the stray pieces of paper and empty plates from Sienna's rushed lunch earlier. Somehow, Sienna knew that Kali preferred it that way. If everyone underestimated her, she was capable of accomplishing far more before anyone noticed that the meek housewife was far more than just that.

"So you're saying I have it more difficult than he did?" Sienna couldn't stop the disappointed whine from escaping her. Kali snickered at her plight, but thankfully did not take her humor any further. As frayed as Sienna's nerves were from the past few days, she wasn't sure her sense of humor would survive any prodding.

"Not so much more difficult as it is different. Ghira had to build the White Fang up from nothing, whereas you must fight to keep it yours. Obviously you have allies in Ghira and I, but it is difficult to fight off threats when it comes from your own people." Kali accepted the last few plates from Sienna with a gracious nod, and together the two walked out of the board room. Sienna had no more scheduled meetings, and she would be damned if she remained locked up in a meeting room all day.

"Had I realized just how many people Ghira kept in check, I would have prepared better. I thought I had everyone figured out, but it seems I was sorely mistaken." The Lupin brothers, Leonardo Lionheart, and a myriad of other Faunus across the planet lent their support to the White Fang, but that support often came with conditions. As Sienna was fast discovering, those conditions could also change in the event of new leadership.

"Ghira is more than happy to help you manage things for the first few weeks, but you will have to muster up the courage to ask him." Kali rolled her eyes at the thought of her husband. "I'm sure he's trying to teach some mystical lesson in leadership by not helping right away, but you should always know that you have our support, Sienna. If we don't stick together, the White Fang will turn into the menagerie of animals that our opponents accuse us of being." Sienna conceded the point, even though she too looked up at the ceiling in response to Kali's prediction about Ghira. The man did seem to take some strange pleasure in making nearly everything a lesson in leading the White Fang.

"I suppose that is true. I just wanted to take the fight to the SDC and the Winchesters of the world, not get mired down in local politics. At this rate, the White Fang will collapse before we ever get off the ground!" Her hands came up to grasp at her hair, and Kali allowed a small smile as Sienna showed a rare moment of frustration. "Ugh! Of course, right when I need someone trustworthy to watch my back and coordinate with the organization, Arthur goes running across the continent to get into even more trouble!" Sienna griped, though she quickly controlled herself as Kali led the way to the door. Standing just outside were the guards from Kuo Kuana's local security force, and if guards loved to do anything it was gossip. The last thing she needed was word spreading around that she was losing her cool. That would do more damage than even the most savage contender for her throne.

"Rest your head tonight and give it some time to settle. Come morning, I'm sure you will be able to come up with a better solution. Until then, trust in your people to do what they think is right. The White Fang will not burn down around you if you turn away for a moment." Kali chided gently, though she did not miss Sienna's doubtful look. The two women walked down the large staircase that led from the mansion towards Kuo Kuana proper, and when they reached the bottom Kali went no further. Sienna took notice and turned to face the Lady Belladonna, bowing slightly out of respect.

"Thank you for your counsel and company, Kali. I needed to speak to someone that didn't secretly want to usurp me for the next few minutes." Kali winked and waved off her gratitude, smiling easily in a way only she could.

"Oh, nonsense. We're all on the same side, my dear. Just make sure that all the family squabbles don't get you down." They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Sienna finally bid her farewell, and the tiger Faunus was left to stalk her shadowy way home alone. Already, she missed the companionable presence of Arthur by her side, ready to offer a word or bullet toward the nearest problem that cropped up. She knew that the sensation would fade as she grew used to his absence, but having him watch her back over the past two months had left a noticeable hole in her defenses. Sienna tried but failed to keep it from ruining her good mood. _And on top of that, I have 'family' to entertain._ She groused internally, her ears flattening in anger. When she reached her bungalow, Sienna didn't so much open the door as fling it aside, moving to secure her valuables underneath the floorboards like she had done as a child.

After all, Shao Khan loved to run off with things that weren't his.

* * *

Terribly sorry about the delay. A lot of stuff happened. Got Deputy of the Month, so that was fun. I borrowed one of my favorite villains from the Mortal Kombat series because I felt that the canon listing of Sienna's rivals of power came down to Adam, Corsac, Fennec, and Ghira. She needs to have some early successes of her own without Arthur's help, and these victories will pave the way for further development. On Arthur's side of things, Sean's reappearance is a welcome sight, but I'm sure many of you are wondering just how he managed to survive a gunshot wound to the head. All will be revealed, but first we have to handle this little insurrection.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

It took a few beers for Arthur to come to terms with Sean's new eye. Granted, it was a far better outcome than what he had taken to be fact, but that cold and emotionless prosthetic really ran counter to cheerful, happy young Irishman that he'd rescued from Blackwater. John also seemed uneasy around their reunited friend, though it didn't seem to be because of his new eye. The way Marston shifted whenever Sean adjusted himself in his seat made it look like he was ready to react at any moment. It felt less like a meeting between lost friends and more like two wolves and a bear meeting in the woods.

"I gotta say English, you've caused quite a stir here in dust town. Half the city seems to want to shake yer hand, while the other half would cut it off." Sean jeered, either ignorant of or ignoring the tense atmosphere between himself and John. Abigail busied herself with trying to get something appropriate for Jack to drink, as well as making sure the little scamp took his medicine. That was another thing Arthur felt bad about; he'd abandoned them, and the most innocent among the gang had caught TB anyway.

"It wasn't really intentional. I just fell in with the first group of people I felt wouldn't stab me in the back. Turns out they aren't the most popular around here." Arthur's eyes roamed the bar as he said it, and he was somewhat relieved to see a few Faunus patrons about. It didn't mean they would help in a pinch, but the chances of Winchester's boys frequenting an establishment that served Faunus were low indeed. One less problem they needed in this mess.

"Aye, I heard about your Faunus pals. The White Fang; such a noble group of beasties." Sean noticed Arthur bristle at the term, and he held up a hand to defuse the outlaw's anger. "I got nothing against them. Just strange is all, the way the good Lord made 'em." Arthur nodded, but he still had to swallow a retort to keep things civil. Had he been dumped into Vacuo without a lien to his name like Sean had, he probably would have been a little more leery of the locals himself. But he'd made good friends in the White Fang, and Sean's casual remark had irked him more than it should have.

"They're good people, Sean. Just got dealt a bad hand, is all." Arthur defended, then sipped more of his beer. Vacuo's brew was definitely different from America. It had a little more kick to it, but also a smoother taste. Probably helped that technology was a little further ahead.

"Yeah, I've seen how they're treated. Just goes to show that people are more comfortable when someone's getting shit on." Sean dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand. "Now, I know I've got questions, and you probably have quite a few of your own. What do you say we clear the air and focus on what's next, eh?" It felt like just another scheme, one more job in a long line of jobs they had pulled in the past. Still, the trepidation that Arthur had felt upon entering the bar came back in full force. Should he tell Sean about Summer, or remain silent on the matter? Did his old friend deserve to be deceived in such a manner. _I'll have to make that call as we go._ Arthur grumbled to himself, caught between loyalty to Sean and the promise he had made to Summer. He motioned with his hand toward Sean's new eye, and he could have sworn it glowed in response.

"Why don't you start with why you ain't lying in a hole near Rhodes." Arthur said as he took another sip. "That's what I'm stumbling over right now, anyway." And hopefully, in answering that Sean would reveal why he was so interested in Summer. The Irishman smirked, though the humor didn't reach his eye.

"Not really much of a tale. I was walking with the three of you, ready for this security job, then the next thing I know everything goes black. When I wake up, I'm face down in the street just outside of Vale, with nothing but the clothes on my back and a letter in my jacket. I open the letter, and it says, 'You're life has been spared and you owe us a debt. Work to repay it, and you can keep the eye'. I didn't know what the fuck they were on about until I saw my reflection in a window. It was a right spook, no lie." He tapped the metal prosthetic in emphasis, and the dull clink of metal made Arthur's gut churn. Just from the pitch, he knew that the steel went deep into Sean's head. What kind of person could do that, merge metal and flesh in such a way?

"I can only imagine." Arthur said, if only because he felt that he had to say _something_. "I've seen some crazy shit, but nothing like that. Any idea who put you back together?" Sean shrugged in response, taking another pull on his beer as he did so. His human eye crinkled as he sighed happily, but his mechanical one burned all the same. It was difficult to look at.

"The letter just said that he was a doctor, but recently I've been thinking there's more to it. I'm too dirty to talk to everyone, but most of the doctors I've spoken to said that prosthesis alone couldn't fix a bullet through the brain. _Someone_ put me back together before the doctor ever got to me. So right now, I've been making as much money as I can to pay off whoever the bloke was that decided not to leave me rotting in a hole." At Arthur's wince, Sean waved a hand in front of him. "No offense to present company, of course." So he didn't know how he'd gotten to Remnant at all? And on top of that, Sean had arrived in Vale, whereas the ruins that Arthur and the Marstons had used were in the desert of Vacuo. That meant two things: he had no idea about Summer, and there was more than one way to get between America and Remnant. Sean was trustworthy, but could he be burdened by the knowledge of a woman as wanted as she? Arthur still had not made any kind of contact with the people after her, her own family excluded, and Sean's mysterious benefactors seemed the wrong kind of shady. Then again, he could just be paranoid. The only thing that Arthur knew was that he did not know. And right now, keeping his cards hidden was doing more harm than good.

"Well, I assume that Abigail and John told you about the gang going tits up?" Arthur began. Sean nodded, his usual cheer fading as he recalled the fates of their friends. So many of them gone, and suddenly at that. "I was on my way out too, came down with a nasty case of TB. I went out for the last time, ran into a woman. Saved her some trouble with some Murfrees, and in return she sent me to Vacuo for treatment. Don't ask me how, either. One minute I'm eating dinner, the next thing I know, my horse is dragging me through the desert." Arthur then proceeded to tell the rest of the tale, exempting as much personal information about Summer as he could. That way, if his suspicions were correct, Sean wouldn't be an accessory to the powers that worked against him. If he was just being paranoid, then he could always introduce Sean to the woman later.

The Irishman nodded along with his story, snorting at the tale about the Sea Feilong and the White Fang. When Arthur wrapped up with how he had more or less presided over the White Fang's change in leadership, Sean let out a low whistle.

"Ya don't do things by half measures, do ya Arthur? I can imagine the store fight or maybe the Grimm in the ocean, but bloody all of it? I don't know if you're lucky or damned by the devil himself!" Sean punctuated his declaration with a bark of laughter as he slapped his mug down on the bar. The barkeep sent an irritated glance his way, but it went ignored by both outlaws. Arthur laughed a little as well, and they clinked their beers together in salute. Maybe it had been a little crazy when he'd first come to Remnant, but until now he'd considered his actions par for the course.

The two discussed a few more peculiarities about Remnant, and Arthur asked a little more about Sean's eye as well. Apparently, the thing never turned off, so it made sleeping difficult for the Irishman. He literally slept with one eye open now. On top of that, it apparently told him things, capable of marking people and magnifying to get a better look at things. Were it not for the hole in the head it took to get it, Arthur would have been envious of his friend's new abilities. As they talked, _Tapster's_ became a bit more crowded as people came in from working night shift to drink their troubles away. Abby and Jack had made it back to the table by now, and were trading stories themselves to consolidate their little table. As the newcomers came in, the barkeep became more lively as well. Welcoming frequent customers and new faces alike, he started sliding and handing out drinks at a decent pace.

"Did you hear about Commissioner Redfield? I hear he got credit for catching a bunch of gangsters a few weeks back?" One of the newcomers gossiped. Arthur heard a snort come from the other side of the table in question.

"Yeah, right. More like he cleaned up after the White Fang. They were the ones throwing down with the alley dwellers." The dull thunk of a tankard hitting the table indicated the arrival of a third person to the table. Arthur leaned back from Abigail's tale about meeting a kid with green hair of all things to get a better look at the new arrival. Unlike his fellows, this man was a tad bit larger, and dark as a moonless night. His bald head was covered in scars, and his rough jacket and bandaged hands painted him as the bruiser type. At the mention of the White Fang, he scowled heavily.

"Even a broken clock is right twice a day. Them White Fang animals weren't doing it for no greater good. They was in it fer themselves." He groused, sipping from his frothy tankard and slamming it back down. His words raised Arthur's hackles a little, but he forced himself to go back to listening to Abigail. It wasn't his business what some knuckle dragging thug thought, and Sienna would scold him for getting involved in affairs as petty as gossip. He went back to drinking his beer, half wishing that it were liquor instead. Whiskey always drowned out the stupid.

"What's got your panties in a twist, Steve? Good is good, far as I'm concerned." The first speaker replied, and Arthur almost rolled his eyes at the interjection. _Oh boy, I bet we're gonna get some civil discourse here._ Arthur tried to ignore the conversation and get back to his own. Sean looked up to see that he was distracted, and his natural eye narrowed in suspicion. Arthur nodded his head toward the table behind him, and Sean began listening in as well.

"I watched them damn Faunus run off with perfectly good lumber, and I bet you my girl's garters that they didn't pay one dirty lien for it. What's what, I heard they had they selves a human to make the deal. Cowards were too scared to steal it they selves." The scarred man snarled, and Arthur very quickly came to the conclusion that he did not like Steve. Steve was a bigoted and ignorant prick. Some of his disgust must have spread to his face, as Abigail had stopped talking when he looked back, John and Sean were both giving him reproachful looks. Now it was his turn to defend himself.

"What?" Arthur demanded, though not too roughly. John just ran a hand over his face while Sean turned and explained to Abigail.

"You see my dear, that is Arthur's violent face. It's the one he wears when he's about to introduce some poor bleeder to his ancestors." Sean turned and looked at Arthur. "The exact face he _doesn't need tae be making_ when we're trying to avoid a local crime lord." Sean made enough emphasis on it for Arthur to lean back and held his hands out to his side, clearly the victim in this completely uncalled for accusation.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Why does it matter to me what some dumbass thinks? I ain't gonna cause no trouble." Arthur tried to sound sincere in his words, but even little Jack raised an eyebrow. Who even taught him how to do that?

"Look, I know you were in tight with them White Fang folk, but you gotta put that down and think about your friends for a second." John admonished gently, and Arthur turned his incredulous look to him next. Were they really all thinking that he was gonna start some early morning bar fight over some sour words toward Sienna's people? He was about to respond on just how much they were blowing this out of proportion when Steve spoke up again.

"I even saw that tiger Faunus leading him into the city. I bet she's fucking him, making him do that what she asks him." Teeth clenched, eyes blurred, and Arthur's beer bottle shattered in his hand as he stood up, his Aura protecting him from the glass shards that rained down onto the table with the modicum of beer that he'd had left. John stood up as well, more to stop Arthur from doing anything rash than to join him. When Steve turned to get a good look at whatever was happening, he caught Arthur's knuckles with his face. The blow wasn't terribly reinforced by Aura, as angry and new to it as Arthur was, but it was still enough to break Steve's nose, the leg off of the chair Steve sat on, and send the large and scarred man crashing into the table he was sat at. Unsurprisingly, that broke too, dumping the dark skinned man and the drinks of his friends into the floor with a mighty crash. Arthur caught the man's tankard in his hand, wrapping around the handle before it could spill more than a mouthful of beer.

The crash startled the rest of _Tapster's_ patrons, and the barkeep looked over at Arthur with an angry scowl. Only he had been privy to the conversation at the table, so to the rest of the establishment Arthur had just attacked a man for no reason. But all of that was just noise as Arthur leaned down toward the groaning man, his eyes dark and glinting beneath the brim of his hat.

"I don't make it my business of getting into other people's conversations," Arthur said with a snarl, "but if I ever hear anything like that come out of your ugly mug again, I'll make damn sure to cut your tongue out." Before Steve could respond, Arthur brought the tankard around, and the thick glass mug shattered as he clubbed the man with his own drink. Steve flopped onto the ground the rest of the way, thick glass stuck in his face as he groaned and coughed up beer. His two friends looked down at him, then back up at Arthur. The outlaw let his hand fall to his holster just in case they were about to try anything, but the two were already whimpering and scuttling toward the door in a clumsy, fearful fashion. When he turned back to look at the rest of the establishment, all but his friends had the same opinion. John was ushering Abigail and Jack toward the door, whereas Sean looked more resigned to disappointment. Arthur followed the Marstons out the door, stepping over his victim even as blood began to pour onto the wooden floor.

"It didn't take long at all for you to go native, did it English?" Sean muttered behind him as they pushed out onto the dusty street. Behind them in the bar, Arthur could just barely hear the barkeep calling the police. In one moment of weakness, he had turned a reunion between friends into an assault because he'd lost his cool. Somehow, he knew that Sienna would have been disappointed.

* * *

Summer could only huff and roll her eyes as she watched the trail slowly creep by. The back of the wagon was her assigned spot, both because the Wapiti didn't trust her, and because she could stop herself from talking to everyone. As such, Charles had taken 'pity' on her and put her on the back of the wagon. Since horse drawn travel was so terribly slow, the mother of two was irrevocably bored. She had sharpened her sword, organized the entire wagon, and attempted to speak with every single member of the Wapiti tribe within shouting distance. Unfortunately, even being Arthur's friend was not enough to end the embargo of words brought on by being an outsider. A few braves had been kind enough to nod at her, but that was the extent of their social inclination. Charles and Sadie made a point to talk to her whenever they could, but their history with the Van der Linde gang made them premium guards even among the Wapiti. That, and most of their braves had been lost in Dutch's scheme.

As such, Summer was condemned to suffer as an unwilling passenger on the slowest wagon of all time. Or at least, that was how it felt to her. _I wonder what Arthur is doing right now._ She pondered idly. She had left in one hell of a hurry after dropping off the Marstons, and she couldn't help but feel bad about it. Still, Ruby, Tai, and Yang would all be in grave danger if the wrong people found out that she was still alive, and Arthur had made it through Vacuo decently enough. She just had to hold out faith that John and Abigail would be just as shrewd as the older outlaw.

After successfully delivering the Marston family to Vacuo, Summer had decided to join Charles and Sadie in leading the Wapiti nation to Canada. Her original plan had been to go to the northern country anyway, but her intervention involving the Pinkertons had expedited that decision by several weeks. Whether Agent Milton was in the wrong or not, the Pinkertons were not going to take kindly to the slaying of their own. There wasn't a lot they could do to a seasoned Huntress physically, but Summer was not looking forward to the life of an American fugitive.

The Wapiti women were at least of some conversation. Summer was kept separate from them when the wagons were in motion, but she tried to converse whenever possible. They expressed quiet curiosity toward her clothing and the color of her hair, and one had even pointed at her sword. The last she had resolutely refused, on the grounds of a mecha shift weapon firing off rounds attracting far too much attention. Of course, she couldn't tell the woman that without being considered a witch, so she played it off as a warrior never relinquishing her weapon. That drew the attention away from her sword, but started up a whole new conversation about a female warrior.

"Daydreaming again?" The deep, masculine tone of Charles Smith snapped Summer out of her reverie, and she blinked owlishly upon hearing him. When she looked to her left, the man with mixed heritage was riding his horse alongside the wagon. She winced as she realized she was being a very poor rear guard, wandering around inside her own head instead of keeping watch.

"Something like that. I'm used to moving so much faster than this." She freely admitted. Bullhead or on foot, she was far faster than what had to be the slowest horse on the continent. "That, and no one really wants to talk." She tried not to pout, she really did. But judging by the way Charles held back a chuckle, succeed she did not.

"I can't really blame them for not wanting to trust outsiders, but I feel your pain. The only reason they listen to me and Sadie is because we've dealt with them before. And even that's been tense sometimes." Charles rolled his shoulders as he looked around, and Summer noticed that a few of the walking Wapiti were giving him sour looks too. And where were all the young men? Not that Summer was in the market for one, but she had noticed a distinct lack of adult males in the Wapiti tribe. Fighting age males, she could say.

Oh.

_Oh._

Suddenly that made a lot more sense. Arthur had said something about lying and causing a mess with the local tribe, but Summer was only just now realizing the damage that had been done. Not only were the Wapiti wanted by the federal government, but most of their fighting age men were dead. In the trip up toward Canada, such losses would endanger the convoy during the trip. Sadie and Charles had to sleep sometimes, and even Summer couldn't protect them from everything. Sure, she could destroy most conventional forces that would notice a wagon train like theirs, but not before losses would be sustained.

"I'm surprised that they let us come with them at all, considering what happened." Summer freely admitted. Charles chuckled at that, though there was little humor in his tone.

"They almost didn't, to tell the truth. Were it not for Rains Fall, I doubt we would have ever seen them again. However, despite the unintentional hand we had in the deaths of their kin, we are also better warriors. The Wapiti are in need of protection, and will accept it from those they hate if it means the tribe will survive. They despise even me, and I don't blame them." Well that sucked the fun out of everything. Now not only was she bored, Summer was depressed as well! Her sour mood must have shown on her face, as Charles wasn't finished. "Don't feel so bad about it. You weren't with us, and I doubt you would have allowed Dutch to do as he had. From everything Sadie told me, you don't seem the type to allow selfish greed to put people at risk."

That was a nice compliment, but it still didn't alleviate the looks the Wapiti were giving her. On Remnant, only the most cynical little border towns would have been so leery with a Huntress. Hell, there had been a few times when she'd been asked for autographs after a successful mission. Here, even the children looked ready to spit on her. _Days gone without wishing I could go back home: zero. Personal record..._ She sighed heavily. _Also zero. _Not for the first time, a sense of homesickness the likes of which she had never known on Remnant pervaded her chest. She longed to hear Ruby's triumphant cry upon her return, or feel Yang's soft hair as she was tackled by the energetic blonde. Or the steady beat of Tai's heart as he held her close...

"Ugh!" Summer cried in frustration, her fingers clawing into her cloak as she cursed her predicament. Why did Salem have to seek _her_ out, of all people?! Were the silver eyes really that damned important?! If Summer didn't already know how fruitless it would be, she'd have gouged out her own eyes long ago to protect her family. But even then, Salem would chase her to the ends of both worlds. Not only because of Summer's eyes, but Ruby's as well. It was the ultimate form of helplessness, and the bitter truth of it was she had run away. Just like Raven had, though Summer still didn't have the full story on that. With her exile in America nearly complete, she doubted that she ever would.

Not far from the road they traveled, a lone raven pecked at a newspaper that had been half buried in the mud. The bird pulled and poked at the paper, seeking the delicious bugs that dwelled underneath. The paper was torn and the ink smudged, but the front page's biggest story could just barely be read.

_Dutch Van der Linde Captured! The Noose Awaits!_

* * *

Sienna made sure that Ghira was aware of the coming storm. It was only proper, seeing as how they had only just selected a new base of operations. Until it was constructed, official White Fang business would still be conducted on Kuo Kuana. Unlike the party and her appointment to Supreme Leader, however, she would be receiving her brother's entourage at her personal home. She knew what it was that Shao Khan sought, and it wasn't to sit around sipping tea and exchanging pleasantries. His Outlanders would be coming in like a triumphant army, and she would rather have any violence play out in her back yard instead of Ghira's mansion. Besides, her training ring was large enough to bury him under.

She looked down at her battle chain, curiously absent of emotion as she considered her brother's arrival. He had always boasted to be the stronger of them, though she couldn't remember a time when they had ever come to blows with intent to kill. His prideful ass had won a majority of their spars, but that was before Sienna had truly known how to fight. Before she had discovered her Semblance. He'd left to join his bandit tribe after their parents had died, leaving Sienna all alone to fend for herself in the unforgiving slums of Mistral. Somehow, she was glad he hadn't taken her with him. Better that she had lived as a street rat than become some trophy whore for the strongest in the tribe.

__And now, we'll see if he is truly as strong as he claims___._ She thought dully. Sienna really, _really_ didn't want to fight for the leadership of the White Fang. She'd done everything possible to attain the position of Supreme Leader, but she had done so with the hope that at least a few months would pass before she would spill blood in defense of her station. But of course, Shao Khan didn't care about her hopes and dreams. All he cared about was seizing power and wielding it in as many ways as he could.

Tukson had volunteered to wait at the docks for her. Cain would be close by, ready to call for assistance while Adam tried to protect the civilians. Kuo Kuana's economy thrived on the marketplace next to the docks, and she needed her best out there. Ghira's own security force would be present as well, but short of the man himself there weren't many people on Menagerie that could go toe to toe with Shao Khan and live. Thanks to the fact that he had already handed over leadership, Ghira was not required to get involved in the Khan's family discussion. If any citizen of Kuo Kuana was harmed, however, then Sienna doubted that Ghira would take it lying down.

Sienna itched to be the one to greet the Outlanders at the docks, if only to drive home the point that they were guests, and poorly received as well. Adam had convinced her to remain home, however. In a rare show of wisdom, the boy had counseled her to remain passive instead of meeting them head on.

_"If you meet them at the docks, you will fight them at the docks. I can already tell that Shao Khan will force a confrontation, and the whole reason you're out here in the woods is to keep innocent people from getting hurt." _Of all the times for the boy to acquire some wisdom, it had to come out when he was telling her off. Still, he had a point. Her brother was a brute and cared very little for collateral damage. Anyone conducting their daily business at the market would be at risk if she confronted him there. So instead, she was forced to rely on the others to bring Shao Khan to her. And she _did_ trust them, but the waiting was beginning to get to her. It made her wish... no, she was a grown woman and she could handle these things herself. Sienna Khan had been a strong leader within the White Fang long before she ever met that gunslinger. This was HER problem, not Arthur's.

Sienna stood in the relative shadow of her back yard, the tropical forest casting enough shade over her to be comfortable as she grappled with her current dilemma. She held her scroll in her left hand, though it was wrapped up in her skirt as she twitched and gnashed her teeth. The tiger Faunus looked about impatiently, desperate for any sign that the interlopers had arrived. But if she asked prematurely, it could be perceived as anxiety...and not entirely inaccurate either. Today, everything she had worked for in the White Fang was at risk. If she failed, Ghira would have to take power away from a blood thirsty monster as she bled in the dirt. And if she refused Shao Khan's challenge, his Outlanders would rampage across Menagerie until she came after him.

_Ding!_ The default notification on her scroll nearly stopped her heart, and Sienna had to physically restrain herself from flinging it across the clearing. Her yellow eyes stared down at the device for a few seconds before she scolded herself and opened it, revealing a message from Cain. Unlike her brother or Adam, Cain actually knew how to report relevant information.

__They're heading your way. Shao Khan got short with Tukson and threatened him, but no one has been harmed. Fifteen Outlanders accompanying. He has his hammer like you said.__ Cain's message read. From the last time Sienna had bothered to keep up with her adoptive brother, his entire tribe had only been fifty strong. For him to bring more than a dozen showed that he was either committing a lot of his resources, or the Outlanders had grown. Neither possibility was a good sign. Sienna texted Cain a quick thank you and walked over to the porch of her bungalow, setting her scroll down so that it would not be damaged in the coming fight. Unless he actually decided to talk for once...

"Deep breaths, Sienna. You got this." She muttered, focusing on taking deep breaths to center herself and at least present a facade of calm. She took a deep breath and counted to ten, then slowly breathed it back out. After a half dozen of those, Sienna's mind no longer raced with the possibilities beyond this meeting. And when she heard the first rustle of underbrush, her heart rate was back down to its normal tempo. She would succeed in this, because failure was not an option. The first figure to break the treeline was large, and the one she had been expecting these past few days.

There was a general rule to Faunus about the number of animal traits they had. Most only had one or two, depending on the characteristics of the animal each person resembled. Shao Khan blatantly disregarded that rule, most likely due to the rarity of his heritage. As a Dragon Faunus, Shao had always been told he was special, and it had gone to his head. His skin was thick and tough, and his forearms and back were protected by thick scales. Bony spines protruded from his forearms as well, natural weapons she'd seen him use to dislodge or break blades. His bones were thick and durable, capable of withstanding far more than the average Faunus. His eyes were glowing orange, slitting pupils emanating his malice and greed. His bald head was covered by a plated helm, the face plate created by salvaging a human skull. His teeth were serrated and sharp, and created a vicious snarl regardless of his mood. And if she were a decent judge of him, that mood would be smug.

Shao Khan wore little in the way of armor as well. A dark gray cummerbund wrapped around his thighs, hidden partially by golden bolts of cloth that fell to his knees. His shoulders were covered by gilded pauldrons, sharpened metal plates that jutted outward from him. Beyond that, he wore wooden sandals and kept his hammer in one hand. The cudgel was inlaid with gold on its shaft and came to a rectangular head of stone, with a snarling dragon carved into the center. He stood over six feet tall, and likely weighed on the better half of two hundred and fifty pounds. His size would have been dangerous enough without his Semblance. Shao Khan had the infuriating ability to call his weapons to his hands in an instant, and transport himself to their location as well. Where Sienna needed to physically jump and climb her way up a hill or steep wall, all Shao Khan had to do was throw his hammer to the top and use his Semblance to jump to it. It made fighting him a dangerous prospect, but Sienna had a few tricks of her own.

"Hello, sister." Shao Khan greeted derisively, any hint of familial care lost in his deep baritone. "How has leadership been treating you?" Sienna didn't let the faux attempt at care irritate her. She knew he was going to be an ass ever since he'd announced his intentions to come see her.

"For the three weeks I've had it, never better." Sienna responded impassively. "What do you want, Shao?" She made sure there was no mistaking her ire, and he chuckled in response.

"Straight to the point, as ever. Very well." The towering Faunus raised his hammer threateningly in her direction. "I've come for your seat." Sienna made a show of looking behind her, though she never took her eye off of her treacherous brother. With his intentions declared, there was no telling when he would strike.

"Well, seeing as how I'm standing and not sitting, you seem to have wasted the trip. How terrible." Sienna tossed her hair and cocked her hip, using the motion to disguise the deployment of her battle chain. "Begone, Shao. I have no use for a supremacist traitor, much less the leader of a bandit tribe." Shao Khan snarled at her casual dismissal, and Sienna heard more rustling in the forest around her. She glanced around, and sure enough her brother's contingent of Outlanders slowly emerged from the foliage, arranged in a rough ring around her property. They looked like common bandits, clad in a hodgepodge of leather and iron armor in various styles. All were Faunus, true to her brothers supremacist views, and all looked ready to tear into her should their leader command it.

"Hide behind sarcasm and bravado all you like, Sienna, but this day will see me as leader of the White Fang. You cannot defeat me." Shao marched forward, swinging his hammer around on his wrist. It wasn't an attack, he was moving too slowly. But still, he approached. Rather than be dog piled by his subordinates, Sienna turned and marched toward her training ring. As she did, she scanned the trees behind the Outlanders, searching for any sign of her own allies. After a few seconds of searching, she saw a shock of red hair half way of a palm tree. _Thank the Gods for Adam Taurus._ She thought with relief. The boy wouldn't interfere with her duel, but at the very least he would keep Shao Khan's minions from tipping the scales. And if Adam was nearby, Tukson and Cain weren't far behind. That still left her to face down the metaphorical dragon, but she needn't worry about his cronies forcing her defeat.

"If you honestly believe that the White Fang would tolerate a hostile takeover, you have another thing coming." She lectured, taking up her place across from him. "We're freedom fighters, not your bunch of thugs that bow down to the dog that barks the loudest." Shao Khan did not react to her words, though if that was a testament to his self control or how little he cared for her opinion Sienna neither knew nor cared. Instead, he held up his arms and looked around at his followers, pumping his arms as if he were trying to egg on a crowd.

"Pay heed to the outcome of this battle, men! Whosoever walks away from our conflict shall be declared ruler of the White Fang and the Outlanders!" With his declaration, the Outlanders began to hoot and holler, calling for blood as Shao Khan turned back to face Sienna. The cries of his men did little to deter her, though she couldn't help but hope that Adam got the jump on Shao in the event that she fell. _But it won't come to that._ She reminded herself, taking a deep breath and steeling herself for what was to come. Her battle chain slid out a little more, the favored metal links slipping through her finger effortlessly as she gauged her opponent. Shao was twenty feet away, and well within striking distance. If she retreated, she could control the field and stay away from his hammer, but he would expect such a strategy. Sienna's eyes searched for any new additions or possible weaknesses, all while maintained the aloof detachment of a proven warrior. She would not give him the satisfaction of unsettling her.

__Not only is he stronger than me physically, but his Semblance allows him to move unpredictably. Piece of cake...__ One of the Outlanders approached from the edge of the clearing, not attacking but rather moving purposefully toward the center of the ring. He wore thicker armor than most, and Sienna recognized him by his cowl wrapped face and glowing green eyes. Hannibal Shakur was a lizard Faunus of some kind, and his eyes glowed faintly at all times. Even with such a handicap, he was a master thief, his padded leather robes and iron plated shoulders moved silently as he stood in the center. Sienna kept her eyes on him, ignoring her sneering brother as Hannibal turned and looked at both fighters equally. Despite the fact that Shao Khan was his leader, Hannibal paid the same respect to him as he did to Sienna.

"These two fighters have declared a duel. They shall do battle until the death. Any attempts to surrender or flee will be met with lethal force. Are the combatants ready?" Hannibal's deep voice washed over the clearing as Shao and Sienna both nodded their consent. Once he was certain that the fighters were ready, Hannibal stepped back and raised his hand. He let it drop as he retreated and declared, "FIGHT!" Before he had even cleared the circle, Shao Khan's massive hammer crossed the space between them, spinning through the air with a sinister hum.

Sienna was far enough away to see it coming, and she knew better than to block such a heavy weapon. Most of Shao Khan's strength came from the near constant use of the hammer, and she wasn't foolish enough to think that Aura would be enough to stop it. Instead, she slid forward and ducked as it helicoptered over her head, flinging her chain behind her as she did so. Just as she expected, her brother disappeared from in front of her, and her chain went taut as it wrapped around something. Sienna rose from her slide and wrapped the chain around her forearm, turning to grasp it even as Shao Khan looked down at his trapped leg. With an Aura enhanced heave, Sienna pulled his leg out from underneath him, causing the dragon Faunus to cry out as he slammed into the ground. Pressing her advantage, Sienna reeled him in a few more feet and jumped upward, uncoiling the chain from her arm as she did to. When Shao Khan reached down to pull her off balance with the chain, all he succeeded in doing was drag her in with even greater force.

Sienna fell out of the sky and drove both feet into Shao Khan's stomach. The Outlander leader gasped as the air was driven from his lungs with great force, but Sienna knew such a strike was minor. She kicked off of his abdomen, driving him further into the dirt and leaving behind an indentation in the packed dirt. Her brother coughed and snarled as she landed a few feet away, calling her chain back to her to prevent him from manipulating it further. She didn't need him tossing her around like a rag doll.

"First hit goes to me, _brother_." She made certain to put as much disdain into the word as she could. "Seems you've gotten used to fighting weaklings." All around her, the Outlanders chattered and jeered, not happy that she would speak of their leader so flippantly. Shao Khan himself remained silent as he lifted himself from his personal crater, though the glower he sent her indicated that he was not amused. Only when he had risen to his feet once more did the dragon speak.

"Mind your tongue, sister. It will take far more than that to defeat me." He slapped his stomach on emphasis, and Sienna was a little disappointed to see no evidence of her kick. Still, she knew going into this that he had a massive Aura. It was up to her to whittle it down to nothing. Before he could launch into another diatribe about how inferior she was, Sienna closed in again, forgoing her chain and instead focusing on melee combat. She went in low, driving a foot forward to take out a knee. Shao Khan was ready this time and stepped to the side, and Sienna could only just spin to the side as his hammer came humming bare inches from her head. Sienna drove a flurry of strikes into his unprotected side, but besides a grunt of pain and a retaliatory swing there was no effect. She ducked once more and delivered a focused palm strike to his elbow, seeking to disarm him as the hammer passed. Her palm carried a decent amount of her Aura as she struck, but the only clear reaction was that he let go of his hammer with his left arm. That became a problem when the hammer continued on, but his left hand came back and slammed into her face. Unlike her blows upon him, Shao Khan's single hit sent her flying backward, skidding through the dust before she came up into a guarded stance. Her cheek stung, and the right side of her jaw pulsed with pain at the lateral movement.

The worse thing about fighting Shao Khan was not that he was incredibly sturdy or incredibly strong; he was both. If needed, he could take hits that would incapacitate or kill a normal man just so he could return one in kind. And Sienna had no illusions about the strength her adoptive brother possessed. Still, the White Fang was in danger as long as Shao Khan breathed. She would not tolerate such treachery to continue.

She rushed forward again, dodging to the side at the last moment and driving her knee into the side of his thigh, aiming for the common peroneal nerve that ran through the center. It had some effect, but the meaty hands that wrapped around her shoulders eliminated any satisfaction that came from the strike. She planted her feet and pulled backward, trying to escape his grasp. She did not succeed.

The same knee that she had targeted to weaken him came thundering up into her gut, and it was Sienna's turn to gasp for air. Unfortunately, she did not share her adoptive brother's sturdiness, and her vision swam as another knee strike lifted her from the ground. Shao Khan released her shoulders before she could recover, and the follow up kick to her chest sent her flying once more. Sienna's Aura protected her from the strikes, but she had still felt her ribs shift from the last strike as she slid across the ground once more. This time, she didn't bounce up quit so quickly, still reeling as she coughed violently and tried to control her breathing once more. Colossal asshole that he was, Shao Khan hit like a truck.

"Second and third hit goes to me, sister. Submit, and I will make your passing painless." Judging by the cruel sneer behind his skull mask, that was a lie he enjoyed telling. Not that she would give up, regardless. She would be damned and burned before she allowed anyone to take the White Fang from her especially some supremacist upstart like her brother. Still, she wasn't going to beat him by using her normal disabling tactics. She had to hit him as hard as she could, and stop trying to remove his ability to fight, or else he would just keep tanking through her attacks.

"Oh, shut up already." Sienna wrapped her chain around her forearm once more, holding one of her knives in a reverse grip. His Aura could take light cuts and strikes until the end of time, but she was capable of more than that. Sienna held her wrapped right arm back and beckoned with her left, inviting Shao Khan to battle once more. It was an offer he took with savage glee.

"HA!" The Outlander leader hurled his hammer at her once more, aiming low this time as it spun through the air. Sienna hopped over it with a little more effort than she had dodged it the last time, and her eyes widened as Shao Khan hefted a nasty looking spear. He hadn't thrown his hammer to hit her, but rather to empty his hands so that he could summon another weapon. She cursed as she rolled in mid air, twisting her body as much as she could to escape the wicked tip of the javelin as it flew towards her. She succeeded, if barely, with only a slight shower of sparks as the thrown weapon bounced off of her chain. It continued forward and dug deep into the dirt, but to her frustration Shao Khan vanished from her sight. Sienna landed in a low crouch and spun around, leaping backwards in anticipation for the flanking maneuver that was inevitable. Shao Khan's clawed hand reached out to drag her into another debilitating grapple, but her agility and quick thinking kept her out of his grasp. She jumped back once more to get more distance, but Shao Khan followed relentlessly. Not wanting to get backed into a corner, Sienna reversed her direction and instead slid forward, driving her leading foot into the inside of his ankle. Normally it would take a stout blow to trip Shao Khan, but his forward momentum and Sienna's Aura-infused strike were enough to send him flying over her head. With her adoptive brother airborne and surprised, Sienna capitalized on his position.

Her chain came free as she punched forward, leading the chain with the knife she had pulled. It arced at an angle, wrapping around Shao Khan's lower leg twice and looping over itself. By the time he landed on the ground, Sienna had planted her feet and was ready to actually do some damage. She wrenched hard and spun around, wrapping her chain around her back and hauling him across the ground and up into the air. As he turned in mid air, Sienna drove her foot into the middle of his back as hard as she could, channeling her Aura with a savage snarl. The kick drove Shao Khan away again, and despite the painful strike he was already fiddling with the chain that kept his leg trapped. Before he could free himself, another massive effort from Sienna had him airborne once again.

Sienna could feel the thrum of energy within her as her Semblance took hold. She rarely used it these days, as offensive as it was, but Shao made the perfect target. As his Aura was reduced and he took damage, she could feel her strength increasing. And with it, her fury climbed as well. At the beginning of the fight, she would have been hard pressed to throw her brother around like she was, but it was becoming easier with every blow she landed. Her Grudge was working against him.

Sienna pulled her chain up and in, dragging Shao up into the air directly above her. When his muscled form eclipsed the sun above her, she yanked downward, drawing him back down to the ground with forceful speed. His eyes widened as he caught on to her plan, but there was little that he could do from his position. He had no leverage in the air, and Sienna was rocketing up to meet him in the air. With an inhuman growl deep in her throat, Sienna drove her fist directly into Shao Khan's chin when they met, the force of the blow sending him into a somersault as he continued down to the ground. A loud crack of bone on bone filled the clearing, followed by a much duller thud as the Dragon Faunus impacted with the ground.

Shao Khan groaned in pain as he struggled to breath. His sister's blows from earlier had been stout, but easily shrugged off given his size and experience in fighting. These new strikes were on a whole other level, however. As he shifted in vain to escape the Shao Khan shaped hole in the ground, he felt one of his ribs flare up in pain. _That bitch..._ He thought savagely. Only then, did he look upward.

Sienna was poised and ready to strike, coming down upon him with a kick that, given her increased strength, would most likely cut him in two. Were it not for his Semblance, anyway. Just before Sienna drove her foot into his gut with all the force of the Gods themselves, Shao Khan avoided the strike by jumping to the location of his hammer a short distance away. The rumble of breaking earth filled the clearing along with a cloud of pulverized dirt and dust, obscuring both fighters from the surrounding observers. A few more loud cracks filled the air, and the cloud warped and distorted before being blown away completely.

When the cloud dissipated, more than a few were surprised to see the two siblings locked hand in hand, Sienna matching Shao Khan's superior strength. By the power of her Semblance, the damage her brother had sustained bolstered her strength to match his. And that fact did not sit well with the bandit leader.

"What power is this, woman? How are you able to match me?" He growled in her face, straining to gain some form of leverage. Sienna didn't reply, the feral look in her eyes giving him doubts on the outcome of this battle. Was this her Semblance? If so, how did it work? Shao Khan tore his left hand from her right and brought it back, driving it toward her face with all of his strength. Sienna surprised him and everyone around by stopping the blow with her palm, a sickening crack filling the clearing as bone met bone and she took the blow head on. He jerked backward, trying to knock her off balance with the sudden change in momentum. Instead, all it did was open up his stance for a debilitating kick to his instep, one that unbalanced him instead. Shao Khan cried out in anger and pain as Sienna swept his weakened leg and forced him to the ground again.

The White Fang' Supreme Leader had lost the cool control she often boasted, her fangs bared and pupils drawn to slits as she took the mount. Her knee pinned one arm at the elbow, the other trapped at Shao Khan's side. He dodged her first strike by moving his head, but she just grabbed his helmet and set him up for the next hit. With a firm grip on him and no way for the bandit leader to defend, Sienna had him dead to rights.

"Yield." She snarled, an order that had none of her usual diplomacy. Whatever anger and hate she had toward her brother was on full display, evident in her clenched fist and furious expression. But Shao Khan had not made it to this point in life by giving up at the first opportunity. He strained against the knee that trapped his extended arm, then spit in her face.

"Never!" He returned haughtily. Another feral growl escaped his sister, and her fist crashed into his nose like a meteor. The first one stunned him, stopping his attempts to escape for an instant. The next one came too quickly for him to put up a fight, and they began to rain upon him. Sienna was yelling now, screaming her hatred and fury into his face as she rained blow after blow upon him. Every strike lowered his Aura, which in turn increased her strength and ferocity. The fourth hit shattered his mask, sending bone fragments into his face and her knuckles. It didn't stop her.

Shao Khan's struggles to free himself weakened as her cascading fists continued to rain, and soon Sienna was spattered with blood, hammering the unconscious form of her brother with a savage snarl on her face. The surrounding observers were silent, watching on as she continued to bludgeon his defenseless form. But she didn't care about what they thought. She didn't care if he was defenseless. All she knew was that he was there to take everything she held dear, and she would be _damned_ before he laid a single finger on what belonged to her! She continued to punch and claw and rip and tear...

It wasn't until a splash of blood crossed her eyes that she stopped, like waking from a dream. Sienna looked down at the ruined mess of Shao Khan's face, her eyes focusing as if she were looking at him for the first time today. It was difficult to tell where the blood ended and his flesh began, but the bone fragments of his mask had been pushed into his skull and soft tissues. One eye hung from its socket, the normally intimidating orb hanging limp and empty. His chest was still, and she couldn't hear any breathing. Not over her own gasps and pounding heart. Sienna gave her brother one last look before she clambered off of his still form, blood dripping down her arms onto the broken ground. As she continued to gasp for air, the haze of battle slowly filtered out of her mind. Her Semblance faded away as well, and she became distinctly aware of just how tired she was. And her right arm was on fire.

Sienna winced as the appendage slumped to her side, useless and feeling very wrong. She prodded the limb gently around her shoulder, and any effort to lift it was met with pain and twitching fingers. Still, she looked around the clearing with determination in her eyes. All around, the White Fang and the Outlanders stared at her. She wondered if the bandits would honor their agreement now that she was wounded. Adam was a capable fighter, to be sure, but a slew of bandits rampaging across Kuo Kuana would still cause catastrophic damage before they could be brought to heel.

Hannibal, the bandaged lieutenant to her late brother, stepped forward with some gravity. He approached her cautiously, his arms at his sides, and gave her a nod. She met his eyes and gave one in return, then the bandit turned his attention to the ruined corpse of his former leader. He raised his right hand and gestured toward the side of the circle, and two more Faunus in leather and cloth armor approached. Tukson stepped from the ring as well, walking towards Sienna instead of Shao Khan's corpse. While the Outlanders encircled their leader, Tukson began examining her shoulder.

"That was reckless, taking that punch head on." He chided, prodding the wounded limb as she gritted her teeth. "You've definitely dislocated it." Sienna nodded and lifted the arm as far as she could, dropping it into his palm. Without much more comment, the pulled hard, jerking the joint back into its socket. Sienna roared past the pain, causing everyone else in the clearing to freeze. She blinked the tears from her eyes, her teeth bared as she rolled her arm. It was back to proper form, but there was still some mending to do. Tukson removed his cloth belt and fashioned an impromptu sling, slipping it over her neck. Sienna tested it with a grunt of discomfort, and was about to ask about the rest of the Outlanders when she heard the rasp of a blade clearing its sheathe.

Sienna and Tukson both turned abruptly, but it was to find Hannibal sawing away at Shao Khan's corpse, the neck in particular. Blood gushed from the still warm corpse as he worked, spattering his arms and hands. In the end, the reptilian Faunus held his former leader's head aloft for all to see. The White Fang members were sickened and repulsed, but the Outlanders had far more solemn looks. It was a changing of leadership to them.

"Shao Khan declared that the leader of this duel would be the chief of both the White Fang and the Outlanders. Sienna Khan, you have slain our chief in fair combat." He tossed the head at her feet, where it landed with a sickening squelch. The eye she had pummeled out of its socket looked up at her, even though Shao Khan's face was pointed to the side. At the time, she'd found nothing but pleasure in driving the life from his body with her bare hands. Now, nausea was the most prevalent thing on her mind.

Hannibal knelt before her, placing one arm across his chest in a salute. The other two Outlanders that assisted him mirrored the action. "What are your orders, Supreme Leader Khan?" The respect in his voice soothed her aches and troubled stomach, but Sienna knew that she was exhausted. Her Semblance had pushed her past her limits, and her dislocated shoulder would be one of many pains in the morning. Still, this wasn't the kind of question she could leave unanswered.

"Speak with Taurus. We must relocate from Menagerie for the safety of future operations. I want to make it clear, everyone hear is now a member of the White Fang." She placed her foot atop the decapitated head of her brother. "Anyone committing banditry against targets without my explicit instruction will meet a similar fate to your former leader." She looked around as she gave the instruction, and her gaze fell on Hannibal as she finished. The lieutenant nodded and stood, already moving to carry out her orders. _Good,_ she thought. _Saves me the headache right now._

Adam approached from her rear, nodding to Hannibal as the former Outlander went to spread the word. The gathered bandits did not seem all that upset about their new roles, but only time would show who the troublemakers were. Right now, all she had was a tumultuous feeling in her gut and an arm that hurt like hell.

"There will be some adjustment, you realize." The young man muttered, and Sienna nodded tiredly. She gestured toward where Hannibal had gone.

"Go with him. Make sure we don't have a coup brewing." She looked at Tukson next. "Be sure to explain everything to Ghira. I'm afraid I'm going to be disposed for a few hours." Tukson nodded, and she turned toward her bungalow, leaving the two men standing there. Adam shot the older member a glance, then set off to carry out her orders. Tukson watched them both go, then looked down at the severed head of Shao Khan. Somehow, this didn't feel like the victory Sienna wished it to be. He was about to follow Sienna into her house to caution her about her arm and the Outlanders, were it not for his scroll ringing.

Frowning in confusion, Tukson drew the device from his pocket expecting Ghira's number to be crossing the screen. What he saw instead made him wince. Tukson swiped the screen and answered the call, holding it to his ear so no lingering Outlanders could hear the other side's words.

"Hey, Arthur. What can I help you with?" The cowboy on the other end gave his usual pleasantries, then asked what was going on. Tukson sucked his teeth, wincing as he stepped in some left over blood from the fight. "Well, do I have a story for you..."

Sienna maintained an air of control and command as she strode toward her home. Both newcomers and seasoned White Fang members were still watching, and she had to be the leader they deserved. Both to mollify the Outlanders and to reassure her supporters. Once the door closed behind her and she was safe within her own home, however, the facade shattered. Sienna's shoulders slumped as she gripped her elbow, the improvised sling already grating on her nerves. She stepped into her room and removed what clothing had blood or dirt on it, leaving her in her spandex top and pants. The rest went into the clothes hamper, where she would most likely destroy them later. She used one of her older shirts to wrap a more comfortable sling around her arm, having more material so that it would support the appendage without her having to physically hold on to the sling.

Once that was done, Sienna took one look at the bed and shook her head. She would need to bathe before she sullied the sheets, and the day's fight had taken too much out of her to deal with a one handed shower. Both mentally and physically exhausted, it was all she could do to make sure the front door was locked before she sat down on the couch in her living room. So complete was her exhaustion, she barely even felt her back hit the cushion before she was unconscious.

**A/N:** Changed the fight to get away from the Mortal Kombat feel of it, and included Sienna's Semblance. Grudge is really overpowered if she only has one opponent, and explains why Adam had to take her by surprise in the series. Had he challenged her to a fight, she would have wiped the floor with him. I will be updating chapter 14 as well, then we will continue the adventures of Arthur Morgan and all of his really unlucky friends.


	14. Chapter 14

Sienna earned some respect and some guys trained in combat, specifically in hit and run tactics and raids. What oh what could a Faunus Rights group do with such resources in a world where their greatest adversaries rely on mass transportation of goods?

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**Chapter 14**

Her sling itched. Sienna stood in the Mistralian wilderness, watching in frustration as work began on their new base of operations. With her arm on the mend, the Supreme Leader could not help her people with the construction, and was relegated to watching from underneath a humble tent on a hill above the construction. Or rather, reconstruction.

It had been nearly twenty days since her deadly duel with Shao Khan, and Sienna was quickly proving that a dislocated shoulder wouldn't slow her down. She'd made sure to get Hannibal and Adam on a good working relationship to facilitate absorbing the Outlanders into the fold, then gone tramping off into the jungle as fast as she could.

The scouts she had sent out to find a suitable location for a secret base had returned with news of ruins deep in the jungle of Mistral. The Kingdom had either abandoned it long ago, or the stone construction was older than the Kingdom itself. In either case, the flat foundation and smattering of collapsed buildings had been child's play to clean up and prepare for more modern construction. She'd brought a contingent of the former Outlanders to act as guards, but a majority of the White Fang on this team had come from construction and mining jobs, laid off by the Schnee Dust Company after their usefulness had come to an end. Now, they cut and measured and built for the future of all Faunus, a cause they took very seriously. Where the SDC had disposed of them like chaff, the Faunus of the White Fang worked fervently in spite of the mega corporation, taking breaks only when Sienna would force them to. Their demeanor was cheerful and determined, as many were simply glad to be able to put their skills to good use after losing their jobs.

Sienna's tent was spartan by her own decree, demanding that the majority of their supplies go to the laborers and craftsmen that were working far harder than she was. All that it had was a rug to cover the stone floor, a folding table to display schedules and blueprints, and a small cot off to the side for her to fitfully roll around on in lieu of sleep. The entire western side of the tent had been rolled up and tied off, allowing her an unrestricted view of the construction at all times, and she couldn't help but admire the view. The temperate forest was full of wildlife and tall, thick trees. A plateau ran to the north of them, with a large cave recessed into the cliff face. Inside of the cave was an ancient stone temple of some kind, covered in moss and dilapidated from years of neglect. Many of the structures on the temple's foundation had been leveled, and it brought to question what kind of disaster could have destroyed such a shelter place.

The foreman, a short haired bull Faunus with his horns shaved down named Marcus, had been gentle but firm in his insistence that she remain out of the way. The first day on the job she had tried to at least help keep people hydrated, but the presence of the Supreme Leader had put the White Fang workers on edge. Not out of fear, but a respect that made it difficult for them to relax.

"You're hell on wheels in a fight or a rally ma'am, but a work site isn't the place for untrained hands. Especially wounded hands. Just stay out of the way and keep us safe, and we'll take care of the rest." Marcus had explained. It took everything she had not to pout over it. She was the Supreme Leader, damn it! Not some child to be tucked away while the adults worked. Sienna knew that her frustration lay not with Marcus and his men, but rather her injury and accompanying uselessness. Still, leading from the rear was something she had little experience in, and thanks to her dead brother it was now all she could do. And without Tukson, Cain, Adam, or even Hannibal to assist her, she was peerless and alone for most of the day. Marcus and his other supervisors made frequent stops for instructions and updates, adding corrected measurements and reports to give her something to look over in her excessive spare time. It still felt like she was sitting on the edge of the world, though.

Sighing in frustration, Sienna turned away from the work site and made her way to the plastic and metal folding table, pushing aside a few old shipping manifests to reveal the plans for her new base. Right now, everything was having to be carried for nearly three miles, a greatly limited method of transportation. Marcus had a second smaller team working to arrange for a discreet road to lead to the base, but it was slow going. Every step of progress reduced the distance that heavy supplies had to be carried, but it still felt like it was taking too long. On the base itself, it was a mixed hybrid of old stone and new material. The wood from the surrounding forest was durable and strong, but they couldn't move in concrete or metal beams until the road was completed. As such, remains from the temple were used in the foundation, but each large block had to be carefully inspected by Marcus himself. And the final issue was the construction itself. Sienna was used to running missions and getting results within days or weeks, whereas the White Fang headquarters would easily take a year or more. She had foolishly though that it was possible to encourage more progress with her presence, and now she was stuck watching what looking like a bunch of ants climbing around an ant hill. But they were her ants and she would endure the irritation for their sake.

The other, unspoken reason for her presence was a delaying tactic. After he had reset her shoulder, Tukson had stepped away to take a scroll call. When he returned, the look on his face had been one of immense guilt. Arthur Morgan was aware of her duel to the death, and was on his way to find her. Presumably, he was going to lecture her about risking her life or some other such thing. Frankly, Sienna hadn't been thrilled about facing her brother, but the choice had been out of her hands ever since he first made his move. Shao Khan had announced his bid for White Fang leadership, and backed her into a corner in doing so. She couldn't refuse him outright without inviting violence on Menagerie, and Ghira's agreement on separating the White Fang from Kuo Kuana would have been left in tatters. If she asked Ghira himself to drive out her brother, the rest of the White Fang would have seen it as weakness. And as for what she had gained?

The problem with the White Fang taking a more aggressive approach was that there were so few trained fighters in the organization. Get them all together in one room and she would be satisfied, but the White Fang was spread out all over Remnant. Even in Menagerie, the current seat of their power, only twenty or thirty people had a level of combat experience, and a quarter of that number had fought actually people before. With the Outlanders bolstering their ranks, Sienna not only had seasoned fighters in the short term, but she had a basis to train more fighters in the coming months. Sure, many of the former bandits still had some behavioral problems to iron out, but dissent was curtailed both by Hannibal's unwavering discipline and Shao Khan's previous paranoia. As strong as her deceased brother had been, he had remained leader for more than just his strength. Any potential contenders for his position had been removed early on, and likely outside of a duel. The only reason he had challenged her was to legitimize his claim to the White Fang. If Sienna had been an opponent within the Outlanders, she would have died to a knife in her sleep or poison in her food. And thanks to his selective purging, Sienna had a malleable and mostly loyal soldier base to work with.

So she had been forced to fight her brother or lose everything she had fought for, and in doing so had thrown the White Fang forward by months. If the self-righteous cowboy wanted to lecture her, then she had plenty of reason for what she had done. Sienna was in no way shape or form hiding from her friend's totally-in-the-wrong ire by supervising the construction of a base she had no reason to believe would be completed before the end of the year. Or at least, that's what she told herself.

_I have to focus on the betterment of the Faunus._ She reasoned. _Even he must understand fighting for a greater cause sometimes gets you hurt. And that I am not some child to be coddled and protected._ The last part was her pride talking, but even that had its place. How could she lead the White Fang if she was not willing to sacrifice for them? If Sienna chose not to risk herself but asked her people to do so, what kind of coward would that make her?

The sound of footsteps jolted her from her musings, and Sienna turned toward the opening in the tent. Sure enough, Marcus emerged from the forest to the right, his do rag and coveralls stained with sweat from the day's exertion. Hell, even standing was enough to drench one in sweat on some of the warmer days.

"Lady Khan, there's a visitor for you." Marcus reported dutifully, though she could tell the interruption irritated the bull Faunus. His face crinkled with thinly veiled frustration, and his fists clenched unconsciously. He clearly did _not_ like whomever was coming to see her. Struggling not to roll her eyes, Sienna couldn't even imagine what he had to be so frustrated with. Arthur had been expected, and she'd even advised the perimeter guards of his description. Why were they going through this like he was an intruder?

"Bring him in, please. And make sure to take some water back if you need it." She ordered gently, walking around the table to greet her no doubt irate friend after he had come tromping through the Mistralian jungle just to see her. Marcus nodded hesitantly and beckoned toward the side of the tent, but otherwise made no move to leave. Sienna was about to ask him what was wrong when her guest stepped into the tent, boots sinking into the soft earth. A guest that was not Arthur Morgan.

The man was lanky and thin, though what she could see of his forearms were muscled. He wore a white sleeveless shirt and white pants that were tucked into tall brown boots that buckled just beneath his knee. The man's shirt was covered by a heavy brown overcoat, and Sienna found herself wondering how he could stand it in the day's heat. Strange gauntlets covered his wrists, and she knew that they were weapons of some sort. The man's dark brown hair was tied back in a knotted ponytail, and a few stray hairs hung over his forehead. The most unsettling thing about him, however, where the way his yellow eyes focused on her, predatory in nature and sending a chill down her spine. His far too happy grin added to the unsettling feeling he gave off, like he was party to a joke that no one else had heard. Even though they outnumbered the stranger, Sienna found herself reaching for her battle chain subconsciously.

"Greetings, traveler. I am Sienna Khan." She cleared her throat and offered her good hand. "For what reason did you seek me out?" The stranger examined her hand for a moment, tilting his head this way and that before he reached forward and took her hand in his grasp. Sienna winced as he did his best to crush it.

"Oh, it is _so _good to finally meet you, Lady Khan! I am but a humble servant to my beautiful mistress. You may call me Tyrian." His hands were cold, even with the savage heat of Mistral's jungle. Sienna felt repulsed by the man on the spot, but the White Fang could not be seen to refuse help. Even if it came from a man that genuinely looked like he tortured orphans for giggles. Even with diplomatic relations in mind, Sienna released his hand as soon as was socially acceptable. If Tyrian noticed, his saccharine smile never wavered.

"Pleasure to meet you, Tyrian. I don't want to sound rude, but for what purpose did you seek me out in the wilderness? I didn't exactly make my location known." She gestured with her good hand toward the plateau and ruined temple, and Tyrian examined it all with a creepy chuckle.

"Oh, yes! I'm sure we would have met before had you remained in Menagerie, but I can find anything on Remnant. Call it a... talent, of sorts." The man wrung his hands and chuckled again, causing Marcus' hands to clench. Good, she wasn't the only one disturbed by this strange individual. "Surely Ghira mentioned me. After all, I helped the White Fang get neutral ground in Atlas and Vale without bloodshed." The man's calm facade twitched as he uttered the word 'bloodshed', and Sienna wasn't so sure that he was happy about the outcome or not. Still, this was the strange benefactor Ghira had mentioned? He'd been right on the money when he'd said that his 'friend' was odd. But how Ghira could work with someone as disturbed as this Tyrian fellow was something of a mystery.

"I recall that he'd mentioned an ally, but we never discussed it further than that. Nevertheless, I thank you for your support." Her eyes narrowed. "However, you would not have sought me out here in the wilderness just to introduce yourself. What is it you need, Tyrian?" The man paused in his hand wringing, perking up like a cat that had just caught wind of a mouse. And Sienna had no illusions about the identity of the mouse.

"Oh ho ho, how clever you are, Lady Khan! My mistress was right about you. But fret not, there is no heavy price to pay here. In exchange for our assistance in Vale and Atlas, my mistress asks only for... information." Tyrian reached into his overcoat, causing both Sienna and Marcus to tense. Their caution was unwarranted, however, when he simply retrieved a scroll from his pocket. He set it on the table and backed up a respectable distance away, taking some hidden pleasure in how guarded she was around him. The way his mouth curled into a self-satisfied smirk made her want to kick down the embankment. Instead, however, Sienna looked down at the scroll.

It was a series of images, but all of them were the same woman. One with dark hair and a shining smile, her silver eyes glinting. She wore a black and red corset, with red ribbons here and there as it came down to her skirt. In one frame, she was gently cradling a small child that looked very similar to her, while a blonde man and a young blonde girl stood at either side. The children were no older than eight by Sienna's approximation, and everyone in the picture had bright smiles. In the next photograph, the woman's smile had been traded for a battle worn frown, her features streaked with dirt and grime as she faced off with some unknown opponent off screen. It was raining in the picture, and she held out a sword that was covered in blood. Her clothes were hidden by a dirty, tattered white cloak, which sported a large hole in her ride side that was also stained with blood.

More than anything else, however, was the name above the pictures. _Summer Rose._ The woman that had brought Arthur to Remnant.

Sienna had a lot of practice in hiding her true thoughts. Living on the streets, hiding her outrage and shame from the cruel gazes of racists and bigots, it had all conditioned her to hide her true thoughts. Still, the sheer magnitude of what she was facing almost broke her calm facade. Her wounded arm clenched for a moment, but only for a moment as she realized just who Tyrian represented.

Arthur had told her about Summer's warning, that there was someone wanting to throw Remnant into all out war and were chasing after her. The whole reason a doting mother had faked her death, lying to the very family she had sworn to protect in order to guarantee their safety. And the predator seeking her was staring at Sienna now with narrowed yellow eyes. He was watching for any sign of recognition. She wouldn't give him one.

"Who is she?" She asked, maintaining a disinterested expression as she pretended to study the pictures. Tyrian stepped around her, making a show of coming around to collect the scroll. From her peripheral vision, however, Sienna could tell that his eyes never left her face.

"A woman that went missing some years ago. She has...something of value in her possession. Until recently we thought her dead, but rumor has it that she still lives." So caught up was he in searching Sienna's reactions for deceit, Tyrian couldn't keep the bitter resentment from his voice as he explained. Something told Sienna that he would have preferred Summer dead. "All my mistress asks is this; the White Fang keep an ear out for any relevant information on Summer Rose. If one of your agents discovers something of value, my mistress asks that you send a little birdie our way." Tyrian scooped up the scroll and pocketed it with a flourish, grinning widely as he did so. Sienna crossed her good arm over her bad one, feigning a thinking pose.

"You went through all this trouble to repair our relations with two different Kingdoms all so that we would keep an eye out for a dead woman? I'm sorry if that seems a little lopsided." She cocked her hip and placed her good hand on the table. "What did she take that is worth the resources you spent assisting us?" Tyrian's smile wavered, but he turned away before she could see him break. He strode out of the tent to stand parallel with Marcus, who made his disgust obvious by stepping away from him.

"Nothing that concerns you, Supreme Leader. Like I said, all my mistress desires is information. Provide it, and we will enjoy a fruitful relationship with the White Fang. Withhold it..." His voice took on a sinister glee, and Sienna couldn't ignore the shiver that ran up her spine, "and we will make certain that you never leave Menagerie." Marcus growled at the implied threat, his arms held at his side just in case Tyrian tried anything. Somehow, Sienna wasn't certain that the burly Faunus would be effective against the strange man.

"I'll pass out the photographs and inform the men, you have my word. And as thanks for your assistance in the Kingdoms, I shall ignore the fact that you threatened me in pursuit of your own goals." That, and she wasn't exactly confident that the two of them could take him in her current state. Marcus was a veteran of the Faunus Rights Revolution, but he was no Huntsman. And Tyrian felt...wrong. It would be better to err on the side of peace.

"A wise choice my dear. I've made sure to send my details to your scroll. It is my fervent hope that I hear from you soon." Tyrian turned and bowed deeply, crossing his legs in theatrical fashion. When he stood back up, that same predatory glint was in his eyes once more. "Until then, ta ta!" With that, the strange man back flipped into the air, falling down the embankment with a cackle of glee as the trees below hid him from sight. Marcus and Sienna both walked to the edge, their eyes searching the foliage for any sign of the disturbing man. Unfortunately, he was either long gone or so proficient at hiding that they would never spot him.

"Are you alright ma'am?" Marcus asked, his coarse voice tinged with concern. Sienna didn't reply right away, but rather released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. When she finally realized that he had spoken, Sienna patted the large Faunus' shoulder absently.

"I'll be fine. Put word out to the Outlanders that any sightings of this Tyrian fellow are to be reported to me immediately. Tell them not to engage unless attacked first. I doubt they would stand a chance." Sienna had dealt with bandits and ruffians like her brother before, and she knew the difference between a threat and a braggart. The strange man had been so casual because he knew that he could have beaten them. The only reason he hadn't was mostly likely due to this mistress of his.

"And what about his request? Are we really going to report to them about this woman?" Marcus sounded as if answering yes would further frustrate him. To him, someone who had run afoul of a questionable person like Tyrian was most likely innocent, or at the very least no threat to the White Fang. Sienna valued that outlook, as many of the younger White Fang recruits despised humans simply because of their foul treatment. And he didn't know as much about Summer Rose as she did.

"We can't snub them outright, but it would be foolish to deny them when they know so much about us. Put her picture out, but have all reports directed to me. I'll determine what to send to our new...friend." Sienna grounded out the last word. "Make no mistake; we just met an enemy of the Faunus. I just need to find out how much influence they actually have." Marcus nodded, his mood soured by the interaction with Tyrian. At the very least, he seemed pleased with her answers though.

"I'll make sure everyone knows. If I get my hands on that creepy fucker, we'll see how much smiling he does then." Marcus threatened as he walked off to rejoin the work crews. Sienna smirked at his defensiveness, but inside she knew full well the outcome of such a meeting. Looking down at her shoulder, Sienna couldn't help but feel a little helpless. The White Fang had a colossal shadow hanging over them, and she had just caught of glimpse of the monster itself.

* * *

"What do you mean, she's not here?" Arthur's temper had already been frayed by the trip back from Vale, just now getting used to something called 'jet lag'. He didn't know if he wanted to throw up or pass out. "You think you could have told me that when I called you the past six times?!" Adam took his ire like a champion, the only sign of his discomfort being his ever present frown.

"The Supreme Leader wanted you to come here first so that Chieftain Belladonna and I could explain what she had done. She didn't want you to hunt her down without knowing all the details." Adam replied dutifully. He held up a hand as Arthur took in a deep breath, his face coloring as he built up for another blown gasket. "And no, I don't think she could sufficiently explain over the scroll." Arthur stared at Adam, his eyes gaining hints of gold as his emotions played hell with his Aura. Salvation for the young man came from behind the outlaw, a gentle chime of bells as Kali came in from the dining room. She carried a tray with ceremonial cups and an ornate tea pot, and two small bells dangled from the tray. Adam and Arthur both turned to face the Chieftain's wife, and the ire drained from them somewhat. Kali was a gentle woman and always tried her best to ease the burdens of others. In fact, besides an incident with a rude guest, neither Arthur nor Adam had ever heard the woman raise her voice. Blake's adolescent adventures aside, that is.

"Ghira is ready for you both." Kali said with a kind smile. "Arthur, would you be a dear and remove your boots? I know things have been stressful with Sienna lately, but I just cleaned this floor." The gunslinger and swordsman looked at each other, then down at their feet. Arthur's white alligator fowlers were caked with dust from his travels, and Adam's own footwear weren't exactly clean either. Sharing a grumble, the two reluctantly followed her orders and began removing their footwear. Arthur placed his just outside the door, and Adam set his outside next to them. When the two stood up, they stared at each other for a few moments more before snorting and waving off their argument.

Now properly attired, Kali offered them some tea and made way for them to enter Ghira's study. Adam graciously accepted, but Arthur declined with a gruff thanks. He wasn't really an eastern tea drinker. The stuff needed to be cold and sweet, not hot and full of leaves. But it would take a braver man than he to snub Kali in her own house so rudely. Together, although still struggling to keep distance between themselves, Arthur and Adam moved into the study to find Ghira seated on a large beige couch, a clipboard in his hand and reading glasses on as he examined something. There were two wooden chairs with padded cushions across from him, and a low wooden table between them and the couch. Arthur and Adam took the seats silently, waiting as Ghira's eyes danced across the pages.

The silence was heavier than Arthur expected, though it was probably caused more by their previous argument than anything on Ghira's part. He'd thrown up in the man's toilet; there's only so formal you could be with a guy after that. Adam, however, was still as a statue, though he still had that stupid mask and frown on his face. Kali came in behind them and set down a larger cup of tea and a tea pot for her husband, and he stopped reading to look up at her and smile his thanks. After she set the tray to the side, Kali took her place on the couch next to her husband as he finished reading the report. A few more moments passed, Arthur and Adam refusing to look at each other lest their previous discussion crop back up in Ghira's presence, and eventually the gargantuan Chieftain set the clipboard down with a heavy sigh. Ghira set his reading glasses down on top of the clipboard and began rubbing his temples, before he raised his amber eyes to survey the two men before him.

"So...I'm sure that you have plenty of questions, Mr. Morgan." The large Faunus said as he looked toward Arthur. "But who started the argument outside my office?" The question caught Arthur off guard, but Adam was ready for it. Like a mature and well adjusted adult, the red headed Faunus pointed Arthur out like the little rat that he was. Like a disappointed father, Ghira sighed again as Arthur gave Adam a look of total betrayal. They had been exchanging words while he'd been a little hot, but that didn't mean he had to sell Arthur out!

"I called to make sure that the White Fang was goin' smooth, and the next thing I hear is that the Supreme Leader is fighting some bandit to the death!" Arthur defended, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair. "Pardon me if I find that a little irritating. Now, not only did she leave without calling me, but she's also run off into God knows where with a busted up shoulder and a bunch of the bandits that just tried to kill her!" The ire from before began to color his words and his neck once more, but it was smothered by Ghira's neutral expression. The large man hadn't done anything to Arthur, and had in fact invited the outlaw into his home to explain the situation. If his momma could see him now, Arthur knew he'd be swatted on the hind end.

"The challenge from Shao Khan was an unexpected one, but once it was made Sienna lost all choice in the matter." Ghira cleared his throat and leaned forward, patting Kali's knee affectionately as he readjusted. "Before I explain the politics behind the Outlanders and their ways of life, I must first explain how Sienna and Shao were related." Adam sat back as well, pulling Wilt from its sheath and producing a whetstone. As Ghira began the tale, the bull Faunus began to strop.

"Sienna and Shao both were orphaned in Mistral. Shao never explained how his birth parents had died, but Sienna's had been killed in a Grimm attack on her home village. Faunus relations have never been stellar in Mistral, and the idea of an orphanage for a people that the citizens would rather disappear anyway was absolutely preposterous. Still, there were enough Faunus adults interested in foster care for her to be rescued from the streets. Sienna spent time with the Khan family, a man and wife that had lost their own child to a miscarriage." Arthur's ire dried up as his friend's past painted a much darker picture than what she had first allowed. He reached up and rubbed his jaw in consternation, then motioned for Ghira to continue.

"Their foster parents lived just outside of Mistral's capital, a pair named Rudyard and Tikki. Tikki was a Faunus, but Rudyard was a human from Atlas. If Faunus were frowned upon, Human/Faunus couples were especially reviled. Their parents kept them a secret, teaching them to come and go from the small home they shared separately. It was a cruel ruse, but a necessary one. The Khans did their best to provide for Sienna and Shao, and treated them as their own, but eventually the bitter anti-Faunus resentment caught up to them."

Behind Ghira, the door opened to reveal Blake, carrying another tray with some steaming cups. Kali looked back and waved her in, smiling gently as the girl brought the tray around. Blake offered a cup to Arthur, who nodded in appreciation and took one. When Adam did the same, however, a small blush crossed her face as she looked away. Arthur refrained from rolling his eyes in front of his host, but merely sipped the coffee provided. So that was how he had pulled her out of her shell; the damn girl had a crush on tall, dark, and edgy. Once they had taken their cups, Blake set the tray down on the table and took her place by the window, watching outside but also listening to the conversation.

"I know mixed couples don't usually get a lot of good publicity, but you can't tell me them folk in Mistral just went and lynched her parents." Arthur substituted his experience with racial discrimination in the states for the Faunus prejudice on Remnant, certain that it would be at the very least similar.

"No, they did not go that far, thankfully. Mistral is a very insular Kingdom, steeped in traditions both respectable and not. When a community had enough reason to dislike someone, they would shun them utterly. Rudyard and Tikki could not buy food, go to work, or even greet their neighbors. Times became hard, but they did their best for Sienna and Shao. Unfortunately," Ghira heaved a heavy sigh at this, "what was best for the children later became illegal. Rudyard and Tikki had to get their goods and food from others who had been shunned, and many were of disrepute. Tikki used her own heritage to her advantage and began to steal from shops and vendors. She only targeted those that had wronged them, but theft was not an honorable thing." Ghira paused his narrative and took another sip of tea. While he enjoyed the beverage, Kali picked up the slack.

"Sienna's parents did everything they could for them, foster or not, but eventually their crimes caught up to them. Rudyard was excommunicated from Mistral and sent back to Atlas as a prisoner, and Tikki was imprisoned in the capital city. Sienna and her brother were left to fend for themselves. Sienna did well, though she did learn from her foster mother when it came to tricking and stealing, but she did so as rarely as she could. Shao, however, had blamed their father for the abuse. He rationalized that if Tikki had chosen a Faunus husband, they would have only been forced to endure the same hardships as the other Faunus, and not receive hatred from both sides as they had." Kali looked toward the window, in the general direction where Sienna's cottage was... as well as the tiger's deceased brother. "He disappeared not long after an argument with Sienna, leaving her alone in the city. She was thirteen years old at the time." Arthur winced at that. The image of a young Sienna, all alone on the unforgiving streets of a bustling city. The image of her cried, but he knew the tears were only temporary. She was hardened now, experienced and certain of her place in this world. It still made him grip the arms of the chair until his fingers turned white.

"So when he came and challenged her..." Arthur led on, hoping that Ghira or Kali would pick up the question in it. His answer came not from the two in front of him, but from the bull beside him. Adam put his whetstone away and sheathed his blade, adjusting in the seat so he could face Arthur.

"Shao Khan made his living as a bandit, though we didn't find out until just a few years ago." Adam explained neutrally, his earlier ire gone. "While we were demonstrating in Mistral, several of ours were arrested for being 'suspected of banditry'," He held up his fingers for the air quotes, and Arthur nodded gruffly. "The upside to being a Faunus Rights group is that anyone accused of working with you that gets punished is often an easy recruit after they get out of jail. The downside is that any Faunus acting outside of the norm is lumped in with you whether you want them to be or not. The White Fang first learned of the Outlanders just before Sienna was recruited. It took a lot of diplomatic meetings and some concessions from the White Fang to make it clear that we didn't support them." And now, Sienna was the leader of both factions. Talk about irony.

Still, the way he said 'we' and 'our' implied that Adam had been with the White Fang at the time. Just how old had he been when he'd joined? When did Adam the Faunus become Adam of the White Fang? It was something he would have to explore later, but for right now he was focused on Sienna's story.

"So how did you recruit her, anyway? I'm guessing she didn't just walk up and volunteer." Arthur commented, nodding toward Ghira as the larger man set his tea cup down once more. Adam ceded the story to his Chieftain, though his kept his blade sheathed. Apparently he had sharpened all of his irritation out of it. That, or he was trying to be less aggressive around Ghira's daughter.

"Quite the opposite, in fact. One of my old friends from the Revolution contacted me and said that there was a small group of vagrant children in Mistral that needed to be removed from the situation. "Ghira explained. "A dozen or so Faunus orphans and runaways that had sought refuge in the alleys and slums of Mistrals outer districts. Because Blake had been so young, I sent representatives of the White Fang to search for these 'Lost Children', and when they were found, Sienna was the leader. She had gathered them and protected them from criminals and government officials alike, acting as a den mother for the whole lot of them. It took some convincing, but eventually they were able to get her here to Menagerie. Beyond that, it wasn't difficult to convince a twenty two year old woman to help us defend Faunus across Remnant."

So, even before she had joined the White Fang, Sienna had been trying to help other Faunus. It spoke well of her character, but Arthur wondered if it had stopped her from being her own person. Back home, he'd done everything he could to help the gang, but there had been plenty of hunting, fishing, and bar fights in between the heists they had pulled to keep the group alive and safe. The only thing he had seen Sienna do for her own enjoyment was practice martial arts.

Kali snickered into her hand. "Hard to believe that was twelve years ago. She was such a spitfire, even then." _THAT_ got Arthur's attention. She was thirty four?! Arthur had assumed that she was in her mid to late twenties, if that. Suddenly, his mind went to the night she was announced as the new leader of the White Fang. _'Oh, if I were ten years younger.'_ Arthur couldn't help the crimson wave that crawled up his neck to his face. He'd pretty much told the leader of the White Fang in front of all her cronies how pretty he thought she was.

"Well I'll be." Was all he could say. What more could he say? What had looked like a foolhardy decision made by his friend was slowly contorting into a political move where she had every right to lose and still came out on top. The fiery anger he'd had earlier had burned to ash, and he could only feel ashamed for his behavior. Just like her to turn him into a total fool.

"Alright, so what do you suggest I do?" Arthur conceded, and Kali's shoulders relaxed from some tension he hadn't even seen in her. "Even with Aura, she still needs time to get better, and I won't sleep at night knowing she's off in some jungle surrounded by a bunch of nasty Grimm critters." The elder Belladonnas exchanged a look, then Ghira removed his scroll from his vest. With great care, the large man sent a few commands on the tiny device, and Arthur's own scroll beeped in response once he was finished.

"I've sent the location of the White Fang's new home to your scroll. It _is_ deep in the wilderness, true, but most of the more capable White Fang followed her out there. Sienna is far from helpless, and I would caution you not to accuse her of such. She is a prideful woman, and if she felt that you were coming to save her from her own foolishness, I cannot guarantee that the conversation would be... civil." Ghira's pause was warranted. Arthur thought back to how she had nearly broken his arm before the inauguration – pulling him into bed in the process – and he knew full well she would be formidable even with one arm in a sling.

"I appreciate the help, Chief. I really do." Arthur stood with a groan, still not used to walking around without his boots on. "I'll mind my manners when I see her, but I hope you'll forgive me if I ain't quite settled down yet." Ghira, Kali, and Adam stood up as well, the latter stepping over to the door as quickly as possible. Out of the corner of his eyes, Arthur saw young Blake's gaze follow the young man out the door. From what he could tell, Ghira had seen it as well. Regardless of Arthur's thoughts on the matter, it was a Belladonna issue, not a Morgan issue. Not his business.

The Chieftain of Kuo Kuana allowed Arthur out with a few more goodbyes and some advice, and Arthur found himself back on the dusty trail once more. This time, he was headed back to Mistral. And he would...attempt... to have a conversation with a tiger in the jungle. What could go wrong?


	15. Chapter 15

Good news and bad news, kids. The good news is that I graduated from the Academy! Officially certified through the State of Tennessee Peace Officer Standards Training program. My first watch began on 11-11-19 at 1345. The bad news is that, while arranging notes for the academy during the twelve week process, chapters 13, 14, and what progress I had made on this chapter went up like a meth cook's single wide trailer. I've also seriously considered some revisions. This isn't a multi cross, but I threw in a few too many characters from other genres just for some fan service. Now that I've had time to go over my work, I'll probably be removing most of those characters in favor of some created ones. Still, the overall plot will remain the same. I just have to come up with some believable OC.

* * *

**Chapter 15**

As the sun began to rise up from the trees, Sam was glad that the masks the White Fang had started handing out came with a visor. The path from the main road faced east, and the young Faunus found himself staring directly into the morning sun. Not how he had planned on spending the week, but Supreme Leader Khan was counting on him to stand guard. At least, that had been the reason at first. All too late did Sam realize that guard duty was for schmucks.

_Defend us from those that would see us harmed, my ass._ Sam thought with a grumble. Hidden in the relative shade of a gnarled tree, the young deer Faunus had a good view of the path through the jungle without being too exposed. The only problem was the view consisted of trees, trees, and a surprising amount of _trees_. Even Grimm were scarce in the area, though the White Fang's presence had drawn a few Creeps and a King Taijitu. Marcus and the more seasoned members had taken the snake down with little issue, but other than that nothing of particular interest had occurred. The sun had risen, some birds had chirped, and Sam was _bored_.

He didn't have any experience building things, and he could only carry so many supplies back and forth before things got too technical for unskilled hands. The Outlanders were still getting used to standing under the White Fang's banner, so they weren't a talkative bunch either. Supreme Leader Khan was too important to bother, which left Sam in the outlying roles like standing watch or running water to the laborers. Not unimportant tasks, but Sam had expected more to further for Faunus kind. Something that didn't make him feel like the help, at least.

Rustling foliage to the west snapped Sam out of his day dreaming, and he turned sharply to see what was coming. He remained crouched underneath the tree, but his red hatchet came free into his right hand. Was it a Grimm, or maybe a bandit? Leader Khan had warned them that she had spat in the face of the Branwen tribe. Both options brought with them a sense of fear and exhilaration, but Sam forced himself to stay still. If he gave away his position too early, there wouldn't be enough time to warn the others.

Sam couldn't stop his breath from coming out in harsh gasps as heavy footsteps approached. A four legged animal, or was it Grimm? The steps were solid, producing a loud _thunk_ every time a foot struck the ground. Could it be a Griffon, or even a dreaded Nuckelavee? _Get a grip, Sam._ He admonished himself. _If it is a Grimm, you're telling it exactly where you are with all this nervousness._ It was easier thought than done, however. Every approaching step echoed in his ears, and Sam nearly fell back from his crouch. The young Faunus steeled himself, and he rose ever so slightly to get a glimpse at the approaching creature...

Only to sigh in relief when he found a black horse walking leisurely along the path. It was saddled and well groomed, if a little dirty from the jungle. The lookout relaxed his grip on his weapon and tilted his head inquisitively. The horse was a well kept animal, but where was the owner? Sam didn't know much about horses, but he could tell by the hidden stitching and single piece leather on the saddle that the saddle was a custom job. Not a cheap piece of kit to let go stumbling around the woods.

The rasp of metal on stone to his left drew Sam's attention with a startled gasp, and he hefted his hatchet once more. A man stood next to one of the many trees that lined the path, a whetstone in one hand with a wide blade knife in the other. He wore a white leather gambler hat, a white vest of the same material, and a black shirt and pants over white alligator boots. He wore a satchel and a holster with an ornate revolver hung off of his hip, supported by a black leather belt. Sam raised his hatchet and pointed at the man with his free hand, though he knew full well he was at a disadvantage.

"Stop right there!" He called out in what he hoped was a commanding tone, "This area belongs to the White Fang! Turn around and go back the way you came." Yeah, that sounded good. A real authority could be felt in his voice, and he took solace in the fact that his new mask hid his nervousness from view. The man's face was partially hidden by the brim of his hat, but his relaxed stance and demeanor told Sam that he was far from intimidated. The man stropped one more pass with his knife, looked it over, and then placed back into its sheathe in one smooth, practiced motion. He stowed the whetstone in his satchel, then stood to his full height and walked over toward Sam. Over three inches taller than him, too.

"Not even going to ask who I am? That's rude." The cowboy muttered, and Sam couldn't help but bristle. Who did this human think he was? And coming up on the secluded headquarters of the White Fang, no less! _He could be an SDC spy for all I know. I can't let him stay here!_

"I'm giving you one more warning! Leave, or face the consequences!" Sam ordered, lifting his axe a little higher for the threat it implied. For any random passerby, the threat alone would be enough to discourage them from staying. For this cowboy, he didn't seem too impressed. If anything, the small smirk on his face said that the human was amused. That didn't bode well. The only people that were amused by raised weapons were those that were used to dealing with them. Like a Huntsman...

"Look, son. I can see you're real serious about protecting the White Fang, really, I can. But you can't just go threatening every damn person that walks up on ya." The man gestured around them at the dense vegetation. "I've been tromping through these woods for six days and swatting mosquitoes the size of house cats. If you think I'm just gonna turn away now, you're wrong in the head." The cowboy squared his shoulders, making it clear that he wasn't going anywhere. Sam felt more than a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck, but he gritted his teeth and focused on his own indignation. How dare this human presume to enter their territory, as if he belonged there all along? Sam had no idea who this guy was, but it seemed that a conflict was unavoidable. He had to protect Supreme Leader Khan and the others from this Huntsman!

"I told you to leave! That was your last chance!" Sam cried, and rushed forward toward the intruder. There was maybe thirty feet between them, and the man made no move to draw the pistol from his waist. He'd caught the human by surprise. He closed in, hatchet raised and ready – only to gasp in surprise as the man knocked the weapon from his hand with the back of his fist and kicked Sam's legs out from underneath him in the same motion. The Faunus hit the ground hard, not really knowing how to fall and recover quickly. He scrambled to get back up, but the Huntsman was on his back immediately. Sam thrashed and snarled, but soon enough his arms and legs were bound with rope. Within ten seconds, he had gone from bravely attacking a trespassing human to being bound and hefted onto the Huntsman's back.

_This is NOT how I expected today to go..._ Sam thought dejectedly. He gave a few half hearted kicks to test the knot around his ankles, but it was too snug to move. This cowboy knew how to capture people, that was for sure. And now Sam had let down the whole camp by letting this human beat him.

"Alright, come on. Let's get you to Sienna." The Huntsman said with a grunt of effort, picking Sam off of the ground and slinging him over his shoulder. A short whistle brought the horse he had first been distracted by, and Sam found himself slung over the rear of the animal. With his head facing the intruder once more, Sam wriggled and grunted as he worked to free himself.

"Who the hell are you? How do you know the Khan?" Sam demanded, as if he were in any position to demand anything. The cowboy snorted and chuckled a little, shaking his head as he grabbed the reins of his horse.

"Now see? If you'd just asked that to begin with, we could've avoided this whole mess. Now then, I'm guessing the main camp's through here?" It was a rhetorical question, but one Sam refused to answer anyway. "You ain't from Menagerie, are ya boy?"

"What, you think just 'cause I'm a Faunus, I'm from Menagerie? Figures you'd be a racist prick." Sam opened his mouth to say more, but the stranger swatted him in the face with the reins. Not enough to actually hurt, but the sting stopped the next sentence from coming out of his mouth.

"Not what I meant, son. I was asking because if you'd been in Menagerie a few weeks ago, you would recognize me from all the times I saved the construction crews from Grimm while they were finishing the wall around Kuo Kuana. But since you ain't from there, you didn't know who I was." He gave Sam a sidelong glance as they cleared the path and entered the open space, to the notice of some of the other White Fang. Many of them waved, but there were more than a few confused looks when they saw Sam as a captive. None dared to approach at first, and the young White Fang sentry felt his stomach drop when he saw Marcus coming down the hill. The grizzled veteran locked eyes with Sam, and his jaw jutted forward in frustration.

Somehow, Sam felt like his day was about to get worse.

"Hey there, Marcus." The cowboy greeted, further cementing into Sam's mind that he'd fucked up. "How's the building coming along? Have any problems?" The cowboy lifted Sam's restrained body off of his horse, setting him on the ground gently. Sam faintly heard a knife leave its sheathe, but he was far more worried about the grim expression on the White Fang foreman's face. There was a faint sawing sound, and Sam's ankles came free. He sat up on his knees with help from the human, and soon his wrists were unbound as well.

"Nothing we couldn't handle. The boss lady has been going stir crazy though. Think that's something you can handle?" What?! This human had assaulted him, trussed him up, and brought him into camp like some prize boar! And yet the foreman was offering to introduce him to the Supreme Leader?!

"I'm sure she's got plenty to say to me." The man nodded in Sam's direction. "Kid's got spirit, but you might want to make sure he addresses people before he starts threatening them. He'll live longer that way." Marcus nodded slowly, then his steely gaze fell upon the young Faunus. Sam quailed underneath his scrutiny.

"I'll be sure to do that. It's good to see you here, Arthur. Stick around if you can. Sienna could use a bodyguard right now." Marcus glanced around, and some unspoken message passed between the two that Sam couldn't pick up on. The now named Arthur grabbed the reins of his horse and rolled his shoulders.

"Well, might as well pull this splinter now. Where's she at?" Marcus pointed his chin toward the Supreme Leader's tent up on the ledge that overlooked the entire site, and Arthur nodded appreciatively. "Alright then. If you hear any shouting, come save me. I won't be able to hold her off for long." The way he said it implied that it was a joke, but considering he was visiting the Supreme Leader of the White Fang, Sam didn't quite know how acquainted the two were. And before he could follow to get a better understanding, an iron grip settled onto his shoulder.

"Now, about that sentry job..." Marcus didn't raise his voice, but it was because he didn't have to. His sheer size and frightening demeanor made Sam whimper all the same.

Arthur could faintly hear the sound of the young Faunus crying out for mercy as he trudged up the small path that wound around the edge of the cliff. He smirked and shook his head, only feeling a little sorry for the youngster. If he'd just asked, Arthur would have explained everything to him. Still, he hadn't hurt the boy, and it seemed that this was a lesson worth learning. Whenever one dealt with racism, all too often they found themselves firing back in kind. Faunus that were used to being discriminated against by humans all too often returned the sentiment, not that Arthur blamed them. It took a strong person to weather such treatment without letting it alter their values, and sometimes it was better to react than to just sit there and take it.

The gunslinger shook his head, saving his musings for later. Sienna had made a bold move, challenging the leader of a known bandit gang for control of his warriors. She'd been hurt, and hadn't even given him advance notice that it was going to happen. The decision to tell him after the fact had been taken from her hands by Tukson, but it still stung that she had hidden it from him. Ghira's explanation on her motives eased the indignation, but did not dispel it completely. It was still a discussion he needed to have with her, as a friend.

_Provided that she's willing to hear my out._ He mused, spitting into the dirt as he crested the top of the ridge. Sienna's quarters were modest, little more than a thick tent with four walls. One of those walls was rolled up and secured, allowing the Supreme Leader an unobstructed view of the construction site. Arthur looked around inside briefly, but didn't see the tigress anywhere. Figuring that she would reveal herself sooner or later, Arthur turned to get a bird's eye view of the construction.

It was clear that the White Fang were building on top of a previous site, though what had been there before was already cleared away. Arthur could see that the foundation for the site was carved stone, but so much had been covered by the White Fang's zoning marks and construction materials that it was impossible to determine the previous structure. He had to give Marcus and his boys credit, though; the Faunus craftsmen worked fast. From Ghira's explanation, a lot of the White Fang dedicated to this new project were out of work from the SDC and other companies, skilled hands that had suddenly found themselves without jobs. From Arthur's point of view, it was an injustice that worked in favor of the White Fang, since they had gotten a talented workforce that believed in the cause.

"That sure is something." Arthur commented, removing his hat to scratch his head. He held in in front of him for a moment, taking in the scenery, and lifted it to put it back on – only for the hat to disappear from his grasp. Arthur spun around as the alligator skin gambler hat flew behind him, and could only grin when he saw Sienna retreating into her tent, holding up her trophy for him to see. He hadn't even noticed her approach.

"It most certainly is, cowboy. One would think you would hold on to your things more tightly than that." She teased, tossing his hat back after spinning it on her finger a few times. Arthur snatched it out of the air and placed it back on his head, her playfulness making it difficult to hold on to his frustration from earlier. Difficult, but not impossible.

"You're looking pretty good for someone who just had her shoulder dislocated." There wasn't as much bite in the statement as he wanted there to be, but it was enough to sour the mood. Sienna's playful smirk disappeared, and her brow took a hard edge as she crossed her arms. Arthur could see the mulish attitude coming, and he realized that his own anger had flared up before he'd been able to control it.

"I can take care of myself, mister Morgan. I don't need you to solve my every problem." Sienna returned stiffly, and she marched past him to look out over the HQ site. Arthur looked down at his hands and sighed heavily, realizing that he'd opened his big mouth and was going to have to start from his knees on this one.

"I'm sorry, Sienna, but that ain't how I meant it. I know full well you can handle yourself, I just hate that I found out about it like I did. You had me worried sick the whole ride down to Menagerie, and when I got there you were gone." Arthur walked up to stand beside her, though he gave her enough distance in case she wanted to walk away. She didn't, thankfully. "Ghira explained the who and why when I got down there, and I don't blame you for how you handled it. I just wanted to know about it before the punches started flying." Sienna didn't respond, and he stood there next to her, silent as they gazed out over the White Fang's colossal undertaking. He'd said his piece, and now it was up to how she responded whether or not he would have to grovel for her forgiveness. Hopefully, she would understand.

"I was expecting a fight, to be honest. Still, you have to understand that I cannot rely on you for every problem. If I'm to be any kind of capable leader, I must fight my own battles, Arthur. I...am sorry for worrying you, though. I was so focused on recruiting the Outlanders that contacting you seemed less important. Not because I didn't care for your input, but just because everything was simply overwhelming. I was about to fight my own brother to the death, and calling you away from helping your friends was the last thing on my mind." It was a little rough as far as apologies go, but from the wounded expression on her face he knew that this apology was difficult for her.

"I understand. I ain't trying to make you sound like some damsel in distress. I've just lost too many friends to leave things to chance." He turned to face her, patting the woman on the shoulder. "Come on, let's put it past us. I'm tired of being mad at ya."

Sienna looked down at her shoulder where his hand rested, then back up at him. For a moment, he thought she wouldn't take the peace offering, but a smirk crossed her face and she wrapped him up in a hug before he react. Her arms wrapped underneath his to his back, not quite touching as she pulled him close even despite her smaller size. Arthur blinked, then let out a hearty chuckle and patted her back. Sienna held the hug for a moment, then finally released him with a determined look in her eye.

"I'll find the generosity to forgive you _this time,_ Arthur. Even if I may have been a fault, however slightly. Just trust me when it comes to running the White Fang, okay?" She placed her hands on her hips, exasperated but otherwise in a good mood. Arthur sighed heavily and stared at her for a moment, then shrugged in defeat.

"Sure. Just tell me the next time you plan on getting into a life or death fight. Never hurts to have back up." He looked back down at the site once more. "Now tell me exactly what you've got going on here. This is way bigger than anything I've ever seen built."

Happy with the subject change, Sienna turned as well and swept her hand toward the back of overhang, where the ruined temple had once stood.

"There's an extensive cave system in the back that we are fortifying and strengthening. Once that's done, we will have several discreet exits should the HQ come under attack." Her finger went higher to the plateau above the work site. "There's a river above it that we may be able to tap for renewable energy, not to mention clean water. Our Dust reserves are pretty low right now, and the less we require to stay operational, the better. Marcus said he could get something simple up and running for now, but that we should be on the lookout for experts later down the road. Improvements are always possible. As for the rest, we have plans for a barracks, weapons testing, a training dojo for new recruits..." She trailed off, but the content smile on her face told Arthur all he needed to know. Sienna was doing exactly what she was meant to do, and he could tell that she was enjoying every moment of it. Even with all the trials and hardships that came with running the White Fang, it was good to see her finally settle into what she wanted to do.

But that begged the question: what was it that _he_ wanted? He'd been on his way out of the bandit lifestyle back in America, though TB was forcing his hand in that regard. Beyond taking care of the Marston family and delivering the Relic of Choice to Ozpin, he didn't really have a goal in mind. Sure, his friendship with the White Fang and Sienna had been the source of some fun times, but ultimately the fight for equality was theirs. He liked them all, especially since they had gone out of their way to help him get on his feet, but Arthur had not lived to nearly forty years by borrowing trouble from others. If Sienna asked him for help, he would give it, but there was no room in the White Fang for Arthur Morgan. Maybe here in Remnant...on Remnant, however you say it, he'd finally find some peace. Settle down, build a home and just rest for a time. At least without the law on his back, anyway.

"...Arthur?" Too late, he realized he'd spaced out on Sienna, though she didn't seem to mind judging by the amused smirk. He blinked a few times, then shook his head and chuckled.

"Sorry 'bout that. I was somewhere else." He gestured toward the work site. "You got a lot going on here; anything I can do to help? I can run security like I did in Kuo Kuana if you'd like." Sienna gave him a knowing look, but shook her head at his offer.

"With the Outlanders I acquired after my fight with Shao, I've got plenty of experienced guns covering the perimeter. I _do_ have a job lined up as soon as Adam finishes up the recon, if you're interested. We're going to send a message to the SDC that we're not to be trifled with." She stepped away from the cliff side, and Arthur followed her curiously. Was this the beginning of Sienna's new brand of White Fang? He had to see this.

"Is that so? Care to share?" He followed her back toward her tent. She walked around the table and unrolled a map that had been secured there. On it was a location on Anima that didn't look too far from the base, about a day and a half's ride if he were guessing. The property drawn on it reminded him of Braithwaite Manor.

"I'm still working on the details, but with your help and Cain's Dust expertise, we're going to be take a three story summer retreat and turn it into a one story construction site. Interested?" Tweaking the nose of the SDC by hitting a family owned retreat sounded gutsy, the kind of action Sienna had wanted to use to push their cause further than Ghira had ever wanted to go. It also sounded like the kind of action that required the White Fang to be out of Menagerie.

"I thought you were wanting to finish this place up before you starting burning down towns." He leaned across the table, taking in the details on the map and committing them to memory. Sienna frowned at his casual remark, then pointed down at the plans.

"We are. Like I said, there's still some things to figure out before we move. The wait staff there are 100% Faunus, and we've found some sympathizers that can get us in and out with no trouble. The staff leaves, you and the others go in and plant explosives, and we all get to watch their symbol of excess burn to the ground. In and out, before the authorities can arrive. It will depend on speed, communication, and teamwork." She shrugged her shoulders and leaned back. "If some priceless and easily fenced goods disappear on the way out, then consider it our responsibility to save valuables from destruction. What do you say, Arthur? Up for a little freedom fighting?"

The gunslinger looked down at the map hard, his hands on his hips as he considered the plan. It wasn't a bad one, and as long as they did it right no one would get hurt. It would also get attention on an international scale, and show the world that the White Fang was done asking nicely. Still though...

"You're sure no one will be inside? You got a list of all the servants and cooks that work there?" Sienna's grin widened; she knew that he wouldn't be asking if he wasn't interested in helping.

"Adam's finishing up the details, but we should have a full work roster. The head butler keeps meticulous records, but he will be attending to matters outside of the estate when we go in. Apparently he's quite a lush off the clock, as well as the only human on staff. His second in command is the one we approached, and he's confident that everyone can get clear within ten minutes. By the time you're done setting the charges, the only thing in danger will be Jacques Schnee's money." And if he were guessing, they'd been using SDC charges from their mines. That seemed to be the White Fang's source of explosives and Dust, and by God was it ironic. Still, Sienna seemed confident in the plan, and it sounded pretty good...

"Alright, I'm in. Just make sure the kid does it right. He's a little too bloodthirsty for this kind of work to go off without a hitch. What do you have me doing in the meantime?" Sienna's brilliant smile shone, and she practically skipped around the table to a small piece of paper on the nightstand next to her cot.

"Thank you so much, Arthur. You have no idea what this means to me. While we finish the preparations on this job, there's a place you may want to visit. I think their services might interest you." She handed him the paper, though it looked more like a brochure than anything. Arthur read over it, and he couldn't help the grin that crossed his face. He looked back toward the cliff face, then down at the brochure. If he had time to kill, this was the perfect way to do it.

"Well I'll be..."

* * *

John knew he shouldn't be trusting Sean right off the bat, because this job sounded too good to be true. Still, the money was right, and if he was going to take care of Abigail and Jack in this society they were going to need it. Given all the shady things he'd done for Dutch, a job like this wasn't too far out of his wheelhouse, either. Acting as muscle for a local crime boss felt like their trip to Saint Denis, only this time Jack hadn't been kidnapped.

He found himself leaning up against a wall in the shadier parts of Vale, as close to a red light district as he'd seen in the city. He hadn't gotten a feel for the entire town, large as it was, but the technology and people they had was astounding. In America, cars and planes and automatic weapons and all kinds of other stuff were things right out of science fiction, but here in Vale it was reality. The social climate was a lot different too. Around here, people didn't much care for your color, although the Faunus seemed to get a worse shake than everyone else. That was another thing he was still wrapping his head around. People with animal parts seemed like a fever dream back home, but now he not only had to deal with it, he had to focus on not staring and causing any more trouble.

The guy that Junior had sent with him was dressed like the rest of his lackeys: the standard suit, hat, and red sunglasses. Said his name was Chester, which didn't seem like much of a gangster name. When John said as much, the man had laughed. _"Yeah, it's a good thing they see the outfit and say Junior, not Chester. Otherwise we couldn't scare a fifth grader."_ The guy could laugh at himself, which seemed rare in this line of work. Regardless, John and Chester were tasked with either recruiting or dispersing an up and coming gang called the Red Axe Gang that had been causing a stir in the slums and the shipping districts. Peddling drugs and prostitutes was all well and good, but if Junior wasn't getting a cut then he was losing money to rival business. So as an initiation into the Xiong Family's ranks, John's job was to solve the problem – one way or another.

John and Chester walked down the alley that led toward the most reported sighting of the Red Axe, just as the street lights overhead began to flicker on and off. Chester glanced up for a moment and then ignored it, so John ignored it as well. Despite his experience with being muscle, this new world required John to follow Chester's lead until he had a better understanding of the place. Scrolls, Bullheads, hell even the drugs were different. So he would follow Chester's lead for now, until he could take better care of himself.

"They said that they like to use their customers as shields, so watch your fire if things go tits up. Unaffiliated getting killed attracts the law, and Junior has to burn favors to keep them off of our backs. Plus, the people don't deserve to get gunned down in the street." That Chester felt the need to add the second part made John feel a little better about the people he was working with, though only slightly.

"I'm a pretty good shot, no worries. Now what if one of them have Aura?" Another thing he was getting used to. Junior had promised that continued success in the Family would see his Aura unlocked, but it wasn't something he was just gonna hand out. Even a crime lord new better than to make every thug that walked through his door bulletproof. John had to prove that he was a good investment, then he'd receive the upgrade. After his little tussle with Sean, Marston had to admit that he craved a safety net like Aura in a fight.

"We back off and get the twins to come out. Aura isn't exactly a deal breaker, but the amount of noise we'd make taking down someone with Aura would defeat the purpose of the boss just sending in two of us. If you see that shimmer, we're out. Just make sure you don't get caught." Chester turned to look at John out of the corner of his eye. "Most of these mooks that have their Aura unlocked aren't exactly trained in it. If you're not a Huntsman or Huntress, Aura training gets crazy expensive. It's how Beacon and the other schools keep the likes of us down. Even the Malachite sisters attended some gym in Vale to get as good as they are."

"Good to know." John nodded, then focused on the end of the alley. Already, signs of their prey were appearing: junkies leaning up against walls in the middle of a debilitating high, two women dressed for too scandalously for the weather, and a young hood at the corner keeping an eye on all of it. Get your fix or your roll in the hay, all under the watchful eye of the gang. A good way to guarantee repeat business, providing safety, but it also told John and Chester that they were in the right place.

"Follow my lead." Chester hissed, and John let his hand drop to his Cattleman. He didn't grasp the grip, but his hand didn't stray as he walked either. The two calmly approached the corner, and one of the junkies came off the wall suddenly in Chester's path. The goon made a show of shoulder checking the addict, spinning him around and back into the wall with enough force to break his nose. The man fell back down onto the ground, but from his complaining the poor guy wasn't so much hurt as he was offended. Opiates were a hell of a drug.

Still, it did the trick. The hooded man watching over everyone shouted at Chester, but one look at his outfit told the lookout everything he needed to know.

"Heard you boys were doing business around here." Chester offered, focused entirely on the lookout while John watched his back. The two street walkers grabbed their belongings from the curb and darted out of the alley, but the remaining customers were still a possible issue. John had never been high like these guys, but he knew anything was possible.

"Yeah? What's it to you?" The hood shot back, one hand free by his side while the other clenched something in his hoodie pocket. John kept watch on the others, but that tucked hand became the biggest issue they had. If he pulled a gun, he doubted Chester's knife would reach the hood in time.

"Junior don't mind a little competition on the side; it keeps things interesting on the market. But if you're gonna be operating out here, you gotta pay the toll. So, here's our proposition," Chester's butterfly knife came out of his sleeve as he waved his arm. "Pay the tax and keep things moving, or be off our turf by sunrise. Your choice." The hood bristled at the offer, and John could already see where this was going. What he could also see, however, was one of the junkies sitting on the ground had stopped staring off into space and was watching the showdown intently. Coherently, too. _Hiding out with the customers, huh? Not a bad plan. You forgot to keep up the act, though._ John mentally admonished, and he changed targets. Chester had the lookout, John was now focused on the sleeper. And it was a good thing, too.

"Here's what I have to say about your offer!" The hood proclaimed, ripping a blackjack from his hood and charging Chester. The goon shook his head and held his knife out in a standard grip, taking a stance as the youth approached. At the same time, the 'junkie' that John had been watching revealed that underneath his ratty clothes and half of a blanket was a pump action shotgun. Instead of drawing his revolver and attracting attention with gunfire, John dashed over to where the man was seated and drove his boot into the hideout's wrist, causing him to cry out and release the weapon. As the shotgun clattered to the ground, John's Cattleman cleared its holster and was pressed to the man's temple with all the authority of Death himself.

"I reckon you best stay put, friend. I'd hate to see what happens next." John threatened. He backed up as the man raised his hands in surrender, keeping a decent distance between them as he collected the shotgun. Behind him, Chester and the lookout scuffled with their baton and knife, though the pained cries from the youth told John that Chester was a little more experienced than he let on. The suited man ducked a wide, sweeping strike and darted in to slice the outstretched arm, adding another angry red line to the lookout's growing collection of wounds. The boy snarled in response and swung again, but was no more successful than he had been the first time.

John looked around, making sure more of them weren't coming out of the surrounding buildings. Once he was comfortable that things were under control, he holstered his revolver and took hold of his new shotgun. He racked the slide, a satisfying sound that brought Chester's opponent to a stand still. It had no such effect on Chester, however, and the suited goon knocked the kid out with one good haymaker to the temple. With only one left to deal with, John pointed the gun back at its previous owner.

"You know the terms. Now run back and tell the rest. Pay up, or get out. It's that simple." John intoned. The man that had tried to ambush them didn't answer with words, but he nodded as he kept his eyes down. John backed off into the alley they had come from, and Chester followed suit. Once they were a comfortable distance away, the two turned and made their way back to the car at a brisk pace. As they walked, Chester gave John an appraising look through those silly glasses he wore.

"You did pretty good, new guy. I'll let the boss know you've got some grit to you. He'll definitely want you along for some more important work." He looked down at John's captured shotgun. "On top of your pay tonight, why don't you keep that? It's gotta be better than that six shooter." John didn't like someone bad mouthing a gun he'd carried for years, but he wasn't going to turn down a free shotgun neither. Instead, he simply grunted and let the shotgun fall in his left hand. He'd take it apart and get it tuned up when they got home, and if nothing else it would be a good defense gun for Abigail and the boy.

_This is only temporary._ John reminded himself. _I just gotta get us settled, and we'll be done with all this._ Somehow, he didn't believe that.

* * *

Summer knew that America was a large country, but she could have never guessed just how much distance had been between Saint Denis and Canada. Two whole weeks of traveling was starting to fray her nerves, even though the others were in dire need of help. Her oath as a Huntress seemed a little hollow, considering she had all but abandoned Remnant and then sent the one thing she had been protecting back there with a terminally ill cowboy. Still, she couldn't just abandon Arthur's friends on top of her own family, not after the promise she had made. As it stood, they were just a few miles west of Chicago, following the Mississippi River all the way up to the Great Lakes. It kept them close enough to civilization to resupply and keep tabs on whether or not they were being followed, but far enough away that the law wouldn't have time to descend on what was left of the Wapiti and the Van der Linde gang. Although, the heat on the latter wasn't quite as bad considering Dutch himself had been caught. The further North they went, the more scarce the news became, but Summer had it on good authority that Dutch's trial would be speedy and decisive. The noose awaited for Arthur's old mentor.

_And I might as well have wrapped it around his neck myself. _She thought grimly. No matter how you sliced it, Summer's intervention in the Van der Linde gang had ultimately led to its destruction. It had been an earned death and a deserved one, but she still could not stomach harming those that Arthur had called friends. Not when he had promised to look after her own family. A nudge from behind her pulled Summer out of her downtrodden thoughts, and she looked up to take in her surroundings.

The caravan was passing through a shallow valley, the last little bit of mountainside that she could see before they approached the flats near the Great Lakes. Even as far as it was, Lake Michigan was already sending gusts of wind their way. The trees were taller here, but less numerous. The path curled slightly into the taller side of the valley, and beyond lay their destination.

Beside her, Charles nodded toward the trees, his expression guarded. Summer followed his gaze, and found a black raven staring at them from the branches. When her gaze fell upon the animal, it began to preen, hiding its face within its feathers.

"Seems you've got a new pet." Charles commented dryly, watching the bird as well. Summer's brow furrowed at his comment, and gave the mixed man a questioning look.

"What do you mean?" He pointed out the bird directly, even as it continued to clean itself diligently.

"That same bird has been following us since we left Lemoyne. It's the only raven I've ever seen that large. And it has red eyes." Charles explained, and Summer reexamined the bird. It was a healthy thing, that was for sure. It almost reminded her of her teammate, Raven, but that couldn't be possible. Raven was on Remnant, and believed her to be dead. A check of the messages on Tai's scroll account had proven that. Still, the resemblance was uncanny.

"Huh. Weird. Know anyone that can train a bird?" She asked as a joke, but Charles' expression remained solemn. He looked back up at the bird, then shook his head as they passed the tree it was perched in.

"Most people consider ravens to be good luck, but that one...I don't think I've ever heard of a bird with red eyes being a good omen." Another coincidence, and this one was much more alarming. _Maybe...maybe I should check that one out?_ If it truly was Raven Branwen following her and not the most unique bird in the U.S. then Summer's best bet to confirm it was to isolate herself and see if her old teammate approached.

"Well, I doubt it's anything to worry about. Hey, can you keep watch for a minute?" Charles raised a brow, and Summer didn't have to fake her embarrassed blush. I've got, uh, something to take care of before we get out onto the flats." She watched the man's brow furrow until he relaxed a moment later, finally putting together what she was asking.

"Alright. Just don't stray too far; we have enough gaps in our guard as it stands." He nodded his head toward a particularly dense thicket at the base of a tree nearby. Summer stepped away from the caravan and stood next to the tree, waiting patiently as the rest of the Wapiti Nation made their way past. A few of them gave her a searching look, but for the most part they ignored her in favor of a grim trek north. Once the wagon train had passed and she had some modicum of privacy, Summer stepped behind the thicket.

She waited a few moments, eyes and ears sharp for any sign of her old teammate. She half hoped that it would actually be Ray, if only because she would have someone that knew what was going on back home. At the same time, the woman showing up that she had given so much grief about running out on Tai and their daughter when Summer herself had just done the same thing? Yeah, that was a discussion she did NOT want to have.

Summer looked around a few more times, not detecting any movement in the brush, then sighed and decided to take care of business while she was in a private area. She really did have to pee, it hadn't been a lie.

"Hey." She had bent down to begin her business when the voice nearly scared her out of her skin, causing the silver eyed warrior to shriek in surprise as she snatched her pants back up. When she spun around, face blazing red, she found Raven standing with her arms crossed, oozing smugness.

"Ray! What the hell?! Can't you see I was trying to use the bathroom?" So caught up in the embarrassment, Summer failed to actually consider the words until they were out of her mouth. If anything, Raven's smirk became even more pronounced.

"Oh, I'm sorry. By all means, continue. I've never seen a dead woman take a piss before." From the way she stayed put, Raven had no intentions in actually giving Summer any privacy. The urge was still there, but her apprehension toward facing her old teammate drowned out her bladder's cries for relief. Summer had the good grace to look sheepish, but it was so hard to meet Raven's gaze. Ever the predator, Ray took her silence as an invitation to lay on the criticism.

"Raven finally reads the writing on the wall and leaves behind her _darling_ family in search of answers and protection in the wilderness, and Summer is the first to cry foul. And yet, here I find you doing the exact same thing. But you ran MUCH further than I could have ever dreamed. Tell me, were mad because it hurt, or because I did it first?" The bandit leader sneered, and the words cut Summer to her core. Yep, this was happening. Hopefully Charles didn't come looking, because this discussion was probably going to end violently.

"It's not like that!" Summer defended, albeit feebly. "I had a close call in Vacuo, and Salem's agents told me that they were heading for Ruby and Yang next. I figured if they thought I had actually died, they would leave Tai and the others alone. As for this place..." She shrugged. "I found it by accident. An old stone gateway out in the desert of Vacuo that activates upon contact with Aura."

Raven looked around at the foliage that surrounded them, thinking over Summer's words as she did so. The bandit leader gave no indication whether she believed Summer, or even considered her words valid in the face of what was probably the biggest hypocrisy this side of Ozpin. The thought brought all the shame she had been fighting these past few months back to the forefront, and Summer had to bite her lip to stay focused.

"I can't fault you for running, especially since Salem recognizes the danger of your eyes. That, and I'm assuming you're packing a little more than silver eyes." As she said that, yellow flames curled from her eyes, and Summer gasped in surprise. Now there wasn't just one, but two Maidens in America. If Amber was still alive, then that meant that Raven most likely had the Spring Maiden's powers. More had happened in her absence than she had first thought.

"How did you know to look for me? The only one who knows I'm still alive should be at Shade Academy right now, or at the very least keeping it a secret." At the mention of Arthur, Raven chuckled and drew her scroll out, typing in a few commands before she turned it toward Summer. The silver eyed woman's shoulders slumped when she saw her own image on the device, a still taken from her instructional videos to Arthur.

"A little cowboy ran into some trouble in Mistral. He was escorting the White Fang and ran afoul of a drunk old crow." Raven smirked at Summer's horrified gasp. "You gave him your scroll, but you didn't teach him to keep the locator turned off? Really set the man up for failure, didn't you?" Oh. That. Yeah, unfortunately there was no way to permanently deactivate the tracker unless you destroyed the scroll entirely. The device had been a risk, but it was also the only way she could include so much instructional material in such a short time. Now, all it had done was ruin her secret and put Arthur in danger.

"Are they alright? I know Qrow wouldn't be thrilled considering, well..." She gestured vaguely around her. "What happened between them?" Raven walked over toward the nearest tree (not the one she almost peed on) and leaned up against it, crossing her arms over the hilt of her sword.

"If you're wondering who was the better fighter, that was never determined. They were just starting to get serious when I intervened. Of course, they weren't a challenge for someone like me." Raven admitted her superiority so casually, inspecting her nails with a bored expression. "The cowboy did manage to escape my camp, and he took my foolish brother with him. In any case, you certainly know how to pick your men." Summer winced, picking up on the insult. Not only had she chosen a capable replacement, but she had gone after Raven's sloppy seconds in the form of Taiyang. Oh, this conversation was shaping up to be exactly how she had dreaded it.

"Well, that's good, I guess." Summer suddenly found herself out of things to say, leaving the conversation entirely up to Raven. She could sit there and blister Summer until the sun sank below the horizon, or she could do what she had come to do. Regardless of the satisfaction Ray got from pointing out Summer's failures, there had to be a reason she had come to America. An uncomfortable silence spread out between them, and Summer cast a worried glance back toward the trail. If she was gone for too long, Charles or Sadie would come looking for her, if only because they needed as many guards as they had. Raven must have noticed, because she sighed heavily and ran a hand through her wild mane.

"Why did you come back here?" She asked quietly. Summer said nothing at first; what could she say? The dysentery and backwards civil rights were just to die for? No, she'd come back because of how easy it would be to survive in a world like this. Not only survive, but disappear.

"No one here has Aura. They don't even know what it is." Summer explained. "Their technology is about a hundred years behind ours, and the country here is still mostly wild and unregulated. Anyone from Remnant could come here and disappear without a problem." The shame at admitting her cowardice burned all the way to her core. Raven didn't press the issue this time, but she didn't really have to; Summer's own conscience was doing that for her. The bandit leader nodded slowly, then looked back at Summer with those same piercing, crimson eyes.

"Knowing what you do now, do you want to go back?" It was an offer; Ray wouldn't waste time bringing it up if it wasn't. Summer's initial response was to say no, but she hesitated. If Raven knew that she was still alive, then Arthur had either been unwilling or incapable of keeping her secret, most likely the latter judging by Raven's story. If word got to Salem and her forces that Summer Rose was still alive, then Taiyang, Ruby, and Yang were in danger all over again. Only this time, she wasn't there to protect them either. The Relic was (hopefully) on its way to Ozpin to be used as he saw fit, but her family was still in danger. She hadn't removed their peril, but delayed it. And now it was time for her to return, if only to make sure that her family would survive. Ozpin could have his war; Summer had already died once for him.

"Yes, I do." She said resolutely. It was the first thing she said to Raven with any kind of conviction, and the red eyed woman chuckled at the response. Ray enjoyed messing with people; power was all she cared about, and guilt brought its own unique power over people. Still, she'd offered to send Summer back. But such an offer was bound to have a cost.

"Good. I almost lost respect for you there." Raven pushed herself off the tree, grasping her sword with one hand and her sheathe with the other. "I can't really give you too much hell after I did the same thing." Summer blinked, not quite believing that Raven would be so generous without cause. Maybe it was because she agreed with the plan? Or because she knew just what kind of threat Salem caused?

"Raven..." Summer began, but a pointed look from the woman cut her off. Raven shook her head and closed her eyes, obviously concentrating on her Semblance.

"Don't go making this pathetic." She admonished. "I don't have the time or the patience for such nonsense. We are much farther away than I'm used to traveling, so this will take a lot out of me. You had better make it count." Before Summer could say anything else about it, Raven drew her sword, opening the signature swirling vortex that was her Semblance. The black and crimson rift swirled in the air, but it seemed smaller than the ones Summer had always seen. Raven's face began to drip with sweat, and her every muscle was clenched with the effort of maintaining the portal.

"Go. Hurry!" The bandit leader bit out. Summer wanted to say something, _anything _really, but she wasn't about to let sentiment stop her from seeing her family again. Without even considering the possible fallout, Summer dove into the portal as quickly as she could, abandoning caution in favor of speed. Her vision washed black, and she had the sudden rush that came with falling through space. When the light returned, she landed half onto a bed, half off of it. The resulting tumble dumped a hundred and twenty pounds of expert Huntress into the floor, throwing her cloak off of herself as quickly as she could. She looked around the room, her heart in her throat as she considered the possibilities. Ray wouldn't possibly be so cruel as to dump her into Yang's room, would she?

A loud snore interrupted Summer's panic, and she looked over to see the other male member of team STRQ. Qrow was spread eagle on the bed of what was probably a tavern, with several empty bottles of rum lying next to his nerveless fingers. Summer rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation, disappointed that he had never kicked that particular habit. She looked up expectantly to see when Raven would follow, but to her astonishment the portal closed without her teammate coming through. The portal shrank into itself and disappeared with a wink of light, leaving Summer with an unconscious Qrow and several questions. The silver eyed warrior considered her options, and waking Qrow was definitely at the bottom of the list. She doubted that he would be as forgiving as Raven had been, especially if he was as drunk as he smelled. No, Summer knew exactly who would be the first to find out about her return. All she had to do was get a scroll...  
But first, she still had to pee!

As Summer slipped out of Qrow's hotel room, Raven watched the portal close with a satisfied smirk. The conversation had been refreshing, given how often she had been on the receiving end of the bullshit. But more than that, she had gotten everything she could ever hope for in a hiding spot.

"A whole world without Aura, huh..." She grinned at the possibilities. There was so much she could do with that, and if they were half as weak as Summer had claimed...

The bushes shook as Sadie Adler entered the woods, but all the woman found was a few footprints and some raven feathers. Summer Rose had made her exit, with the caravan so close to the Great Lakes. And unbeknownst to either Summer or Sadie, the woman that had replaced her in America was far less benevolent.

* * *

**A/N: **Another short chapter to get things rolling. I have a lot of down time now that we are on 10 hour shifts AND I'm on 3rd shift. Police work has its ups and downs, but it is still the best job in the world. I've had to stop myself from writing a report in the middle of my story chapter a few times, though.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Alrighty, moving right along. Changes will be made after this chapter is posted. Don't want you guys going hungry out there.

**Chapter 16**

* * *

Arthur looked up at the well crafted wooden sign, scratching his head and wondering just what in the hell he had gotten into. Beside him, Famine nuzzled his shoulder and knocked his hat off, causing Arthur to curse and bend down to pick it up. Sienna had directed him to a stable about ten miles north of their base, in the small town of Prestwick. Apparently, it was a special shop that catered to service animals and Hunstman companions, but the real trick to it was that they could unlock the Aura of an animal. At least, that's what the brochure had claimed. Arthur placed his hat on his head and gave Famine another look, then grabbed the reins and walked in underneath the sign.

The stable was almost the size of a small ranch, with wooden fences and a few corrals next to a medium sized barn. It was bigger than Sadie Adler's old barn, but not quite the size of the Braithwaite establishment. It was definitely built with better materials though, but there were other differences from most stables he was familiar with. Most of the horse stables Arthur had seen carried tack and horse equipment, and had hitching posts and training corrals. This place had training dummies and what looked like restraints in each stall, though for what purpose he couldn't fathom. The doors to the big barn were open, and Arthur could see a few people doing chores in and around the barn. A couple of younger boys, maybe twenty at the oldest, and an older man that looked closer to Arthur's age. Both boys had short red hair and freckles, wearing buttoned up plaid shirts with some working jeans while the owner of the place was dressed in a green over shirt and some denim coveralls. Or at least, he assumed that the man was the owner.

"Hey, boss! I think we got a customer!" One of the boys called, before he finished tightening one of the restraints in a stall. The other was tending to a beautiful golden Turkoman in another stall, though a small sign noted that it was not for sale. The owner came out from mucking an empty stall to see Arthur, who waved and nodded. The man set his pitchfork down and wiped his brow, his long dark hair flecked with gray. He had a pointed nose that reminded Arthur of the brothers near Rhodes that had fenced stolen horses. This feller seemed much more honest, however.

"Hello there, sir. Name's Trevor. I run these stables." He nodded toward Famine, and whistled appreciatively. "That is a magnificent beast you have there." Arthur grinned and nodded in appreciation, patting the ebony Arabian on his neck.

"Yeah, he's been through a lot with me. Part of the reason I came up here." Arthur held up the brochure Sienna had given him. "I heard you boys can give a horse Aura? Or at least unlock it?" Understand dawned on Trevor's face, and he rubbed his chin as he approached the gunslinger. His eyes, however, were all on Famine.

"We do offer that service, but awakening the Aura in a horse is no small matter. Do you mind?" Arthur nodded, and Trevor stepped up to Famine slowly. The horse shied away at first, edging closer to Arthur as the unfamiliar man approached. But Trevor just kept moving slowly, soothing the horse with a calm, gentle tone. "Sshhh, it's alright now. I just want to take a look at ya." Famine still seemed hesitant, but another series of pats from Arthur and he finally relented. Trevor ran his hands up along Famine's neck and chest, presumably checking for sores or any sign of neglect. He felt along the edges of the saddle and underneath where the blanket was. The entire time, Famine tolerated his presence, though a fresh apple from Arthur helped to smooth his ruffled feathers. When the man finished his examination, he stepped back with a pleased smile on his face.

"You've taken good care of him, that's for sure. And he definitely seems happy with you." Turning to look at the two younger boys, Trevor motioned with his hand. "Edgar, Allen, go get one of the stalls ready. We've got a good one here." Arthur snorted at the names of the two brothers, earning a look from Trevor.

"What, do they got a brother named Poe, too?" Arthur joked. Trevor didn't see the humor in it, and he gave Arthur a queer look.

"No, their brother's name is Geoffrey. Why do you ask?" Arthur waved him off, not really feeling like going through the trouble of explaining himself.

"Forget about it. So tell me, why do you need to put him in a stall?" Arthur gestured toward the one with restraints that Edgar and Allen were currently bustling about. They had anchored several eye bolts into the wall itself, and were running straps from there to the harness, measuring it for Famine's size. Arthur started feeling nervous, and he wasn't even the one going into the contraption. It look too much like something Charles Chatenay would have gotten into with one of his many 'songbirds'.

"As I'm sure you're aware, activating your Aura is no small matter. You're pretty much weaponizing your soul. Now for people, that means you get in touch with who you really are. Your will shapes your Aura, and there's not really much of a downside unless, say, a hardened criminal gets it done. For animals, however, it's got a little more weight to it." He took the reins from Arthur and gently guided Famine into the stall. Arthur followed beside the horse, more for support than any actual know how when it came to fastening him into the stall. The horse protested with a toss of his head, showing his teeth and flattening his ears. It took Arthur stepping up and patting his neck, reassuring the stressed out animal as Trevor and his two assistants finished their tasks.

"Alright, what do you mean? Is he gonna explode or something?" Arthur kept himself in Famine's field of view, and that seemed enough to keep the horse calm for the rest of the set up. When Trevor stepped back, Arthur did so as well.

"Who knows?" Trevor said with a shrug, which wasn't something Arthur was comfortable with. "Your Semblance is random, but some say that it can be an embodiment of all you can be. For us, that seems philosophical, but for Famine here it is incredibly literal. The horse clearly trusts you, and you have a good relationship with him. That's the only reason we're about to give him super powers. He'll have Aura and be stronger, faster, and more resistant to Grimm. And who knows what kind of Semblance he might have?" Stronger, faster, and kicking monster butt? Didn't seem like a downside to Arthur, but then again he took proper care of Famine. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that a horse that wasn't properly cared for could easily become as dangerous as the Grimm, if not worse. A rogue horse that could shrug off bullets and kick a truck over? That did not sound good at all.

"Alright, I think I see your point." Arthur allowed, then gestured toward his captive partner. "So how are you gonna do this?" Edgar, or maybe it was Allen, snickered at the question. Trevor hushed the boy with a look, but it still caused Arthur to raise a brow.

"That's the trick of it. I'll provide the security and the instruction, but you're the one who is gonna do it. You have the greatest bond with him out of everyone here." Trevor made a shooing motion with his hands. "Go on, get up next to him. Hands on his neck and chest are usually best." Arthur did as he was told, walking up and placing his hands on Famine. The horse looked at him faithfully, trusting him completely even despite the strange circumstances. It occurred to Arthur right then that out of everyone he had known in America, except maybe Dutch, Hosea, and John, no one had stood by him quite like Famine. The horse had been his companion in everything he'd done, ever since that fateful day out on the plains.

"Now all you have to do is say his name, and channel your Aura into the horse. If you're as close as I think you are, Famine here should get a nice boost." Trevor instructed. Arthur barely heard him, so wrapped up was he in the solemn realization of his partner. He tried pushing Aura into the horse where he had his hands placed, and Famine only snorted as the energy began to move. The horse had been with him on train robberies, escapes from the law, and had even kicked a bear in the jaw for him on one occasion. The memories brought a wry smile to Arthur's face.

"Famine." As soon as he said it, his Aura dropped from his body with a snap, draining his energy with a sound like the crack of a whip. That same white-gold shimmer covered Famine, and the horse reared up in alarm – taking the stall with him. The sturdy wooden partitions shattered and broke in an instant, sending splinters flying as Edgar and Allen dove for cover. Trevor pulled Arthur away, groggy as he was, and together the pair stepped back a bit as Famine came back down. Arthur noticed that when the horse's hooves struck the dirt, they left an indentation and sent a rumble through the ground. Awe rushed through him, even as the black horse's Aura slowly faded away. He leaned forward with his hands on his knees, panting slightly. He'd been tired before, sure, but draining your Aura was another feeling altogether. It wasn't just shortness of breath or that familiar ache in your limbs; Aura loss felt like the world just couldn't go on anymore. His motivation just to stand took all that he had, but the feeling faded with every step.

While Arthur struggled with restoring his own Aura, Trevor rushed forward to grasp Famine's reins once more. The Arabian looked ready to bolt, giving that he was both newly strengthened and confused as hell. Thankfully, Arthur's training won out over the panic in the horse, and he reluctantly allowed the stable owner to pull him from the ruined remains of the stall. Arthur stood up shakily, heaving a breath as he grabbed hold of Famine and leaned against him. His Aura was replenishing quickly, but it still left him feeling drained and tired. Trevor was nearly beside himself.

"That was by far one of the most powerful rituals I've ever seen! You have quite the horse here, sir." The man clapped Arthur on the back, and with his fatigue the blow nearly put the cowboy on the ground.

"He's...he's definitely one of a kind." Arthur allowed, though the stress the horse had put him through in the time he'd had it made him question his choices. "So, how much do I owe ya?"

After a brief respite, Arthur and Trevor haggled out a price that left them both somewhat satisfied. It helped that Trevor and the boys had been so enamored with Famine's awakening, as Arthur felt like they would have charged more otherwise. Even so, he found himself trotting back to the camp, on a horse that could survive bullets and blades.

The ride back provided enough time for Arthur to finish recuperating, and he had to admit that Famine had a lot more energy in his steps. The horse would normally need brief breaks if he was trotting cross country like they were now, but the horse continued to keep a quick pace and showed no signs of stopping. If anything, Famine seemed happy to move as quickly as possible.

It took roughly half an hour, but soon enough Arthur was tying the Arabian off at the edge of the White Fang construction site. Famine watched him walk away calmly, though Arthur was now certain that the horse could uproot just about anything he was tied to. If Aura had boosted his strength as much as it had, he would hate to receive a kick from the Arabian now. When he reached Sienna's tent this time, she had three other White Fang members gathered around her table. He recognized Marcus, but the other two he didn't know. Judging by the rough leather armor they were wearing, they had probably belonged to the bandit tribe Sienna had absorbed into the White Fang. He considered walking up, but decided against it at the last moment. This was her business; if Sienna wanted him involved, she would ask.

He could overhear the meeting from his position, however. And even though Arthur was courteous, he wasn't stupid. He did his best to listen in, though he kept his back turned and acted as if he was observing the construction. Behind him, he overheard Sienna asking multiple questions, and it sounded like she was asking about itineraries and schedules. The answers she was getting were less than pleasing, judging by her irritated grunt. Still, she didn't rebuke her followers simply for giving information she didn't like. He heard them mutter a few more things, and then they all went silent. Arthur pretended not to notice, though he suspected that he had been noticed.

"Arthur!" Yep, she noticed him. "Come on over! I thought you would be longer." Now formally invited, Arthur joined the White Fang at the table. The two former bandits gave him appraising looks, and Marcus simply nodded once. He liked that about Marcus; you always knew where you stood with the guy. He nodded in return, then looked back at Sienna.

"I made good time getting there, and Famine's even faster now that he's upgraded. I don't know what it will take to stop him now." He joked. "So, where we at on this mansion job?" The others glanced at each other, and then looked at Sienna.

"It's fine. I told him a little bit about it earlier." She then turned to Arthur. "There's been a bit of a snag. The man in charge of the retreat was dismissed recently, though I doubt it had anything to do with our questions. Apparently, some precious things had been going missing." Arthur winced at that, and leaned against the table.

"That puts a damper on things. What's plan B?" Sienna shrugged, even as the two bandits exchanged irritated looks.

"For now, we don't have one. Normally a change in leadership would provide a good chance to strike, but I don't like the uncertainty that comes with it. Until a new master of the house is hired or chosen, I would rather we wait. This is our first operation to make a difference for Faunus everywhere; I will tolerate NO mistakes." Somehow, Arthur felt like that statement wasn't meant for him.

"I see. Well, how long do you think the wait will be? Got any more jobs available?" Not that he was hurting for lien, but he had just turned his horse into a living weapon. When Sienna shook her head, he sighed heavily. "Then I think it's about time I fulfilled my promise. I'll run to Vale real quick while y'all build and get scope things out. By the time I get back, we should be ready."

"That would likely be best. Our sources inside the Schnee family's staff seem to think that six weeks is a decent guess. Until we have anything further, you're good to go. Just..." She glanced toward Marcus and the others, then looked back at Arthur. "... be careful. We know there are worse things between here and Vale than Grimm."

The strange man that had paid her a visit. From Sienna's tale, he was definitely powerful, and he wanted Summer dead. Since Arthur was carrying the Relic that he was most likely after, all caution was warranted until the thing was safely in Ozpin's possession.

"Yeah, you're probably right." He stepped back from the table, taking that as his cue to leave. "Let me know if anything changes. I'll be back quick as I can. I may stop in to see the Marstons before I come back, though." Were it just the two of them, Sienna would have likely sent him off with a hug and a parting joke. Since she was surrounded by her subordinates, however, all she gave him was a regal nod before she went back to work planning out the revolution. Arthur cast a look back at them for a moment, then shook his head and started back down the cliff side. He waved goodbye to a few of the Fang that noticed him, then took Famine's reins from the post he had been tied to.

It was finally time to remove the burden that rested in his saddlebags.

* * *

The glass that slid across the bar to John went untouched, though he wasn't above sampling the boss' alcohol. No, he needed to be sober for this discussion. Judging by Junior's guarded expression, the information broker wasn't about to start imbibing either. John sat at the bar of The Club, though during daylight hours it was less of a nightclub and more in line with some fancy restaurant. As such, the dance floor was deserted with the exception of a few goons performing cleaning duties in anticipation for the night's festivities.

"So what makes you think you can ask me something like that?" Junior demanded, leaning across the bar in what he probably though was a relaxed manner. John knew full well he was just resting closer to the pistol that stayed behind the bar.

"The guy that has almost wiped out the Red Axe Gang, that's who." John said firmly. "Come on, Junior. You know as well as I do that they're good as finished. I even beat a few of them that had Aura." The fights had been hairy, no question, but John's experience in ducking Pinkertons and countless outlaw gangs had paid dividends up against this young urban group. Their leader was still on the loose, but the last place John and Chester had raided was filled with ledgers and records of the gang's activities. If Junior's preliminary report was anything to go off of, the Red Axe was just about buried.

"Yeah, so what? Chester says you've been doing good work, but I reward more than muscle. So far, all I've seen is someone who is quick with a gun. If that was all it took to hand out Aura, half of them would be fighting for the top and the other half would have Beacon down on our heads!" Junior seemed pretty adamant about the topic. "I'm not saying you don't have what it takes; it's just too risky for me to be handing something like that out." The two stared each other down for a few moments, then John broke the eye contact first. He turned in his seat and picked up the glass he had been offered. John knocked it back in one go, wincing slightly as it burned into his belly. If Junior was handing him whiskey like this, the broker didn't hate him at least. But still, if John was going to have any chance of surviving in this new world, he needed that added security that was Aura. And if Beacon kept a tight watch on it, he was going to have to acquire it through...illegitimate means.

"Is there any other way to get it, besides somebody doing it for me?" John asked. Junior shrugged, standing tall as he pulled out a glass and began polishing it. Great. Some kind of information broker.

"The Academies keep a tight lock on information like that. I only know of the one way, though I hear there is another. You'll have to ask the twins if you want a real answer." He pointed his chin toward the dining area of the club, where Miltia and Melanie were serving guests as high class waitresses. Somehow, John felt that not a single customer realized just how deadly the Malachite twins were. John mulled the idea over, then set the glass down with conviction and stood up.

"You know what, I think I will. Do you think they'll mind if I poke my head in for a bit?" Junior looked John up and down, then eventually shrugged and tossed a thumb toward the door.

"You aren't dressed like some ranch hand, so you shouldn't look too out of place. Go on in, and hope Melanie is in a good mood." John nodded his thanks and walked away from the bar, crossing the dance floor toward the far door.

Unlike the get up he'd been wearing the day they had come to Remnant, John's new employment with Junior had allowed for a few more expenses. Instead of the coat that had been through many a wash, she wore a knee length charcoal coat with black lining in the pockets and a silver pen sticking out of the lapel pocket. His ranch pants had been traded for charcoal gray slacks, and he wore a white buttoned undershirt underneath a black vest. A gray paragon town hat sat on his head, much cleaner than what he had worn on the trail. It was close enough to the Xiong Family's normal outfit for him to be easily associated, but still allowed for his own input. Or rather, Abigail's input. _We finally have decent place to live, John Marston. I will die of the plague before I let you wander around like the vagabond you used to be! _

John shook his head at his wife's words, pushing the door open and entering the restaurant part of The Club. Like Junior had said, roughly ten people sat at various tables, all decorated with red table cloth and expensive plates. Here, the silverware was actually silver, and Miltiades and Melanie Malachite took every pain to make sure the customers were happy. Well, maybe not _every_ pain. Judging by Melanie's furious scowl, one of the patrons had gotten on her bad side. Normally humorous since he wasn't in the line of fire, but today it didn't work in John's favor. John wisely looked around the room for her sister instead.

Miltiades Malachite stood at the entrance to the restaurant, her crimson dress and black fur shawl perfect for welcoming the more distinguished patrons of the club. And unlike her sister, Miltia had the patience and level head to deflect or ignore any impropriety directed toward her. Doing his best not to attract any attention, John stayed close to the wall and approached the host stand at a casual pace. Most folks would ignore you completely if you looked like you belonged there, and the last thing John needed was to bother Junior's more affluent customers. An elderly couple had finished seating when he made it to the stand, and Miltia nodded politely to him.

"Hey there, John. What's up?" John stepped to the side and out of the way so that anyone entering would think that he was a waiter or something, and to allow Miltia to work if necessary.

"I had some questions about Aura, and Junior sent me to you two. He said he knew more rumor about it than anything, and seeing as how Melanie looks fit to be tied..." John nodded his head toward Miltia's irritated sister, and she nodded in understanding.

"I see. Well, I can't claim to be an expert or anything, but I'll try to answer." She turned more toward him, half facing John but still watching the door.

"Well, he said that there were two ways to activate your Aura. One was to have it released by someone else, but he didn't know the other." John held his arms up helplessly. "Figure you can shed any light on that?" Miltia covered her giggle with the back of her hand and waved him off.

"Let me guess, you wanted in on the weaponized soul that also protects you from bullets, blades, and bombs?" When John nodded, the girl could only sigh heavily. "Well, I'm guessing he didn't want to activate yours. Not that I blame him."

"He mentioned that Beacon would come down on him something fierce if he gave it to me. What gives with that?" At that, Miltia frowned slightly and huffed.

"Leave it to someone else to ruin our fun, but he's probably talking about the Vices. They were a pretty strong gang up until around seven years ago. Apparently, one of their recruiting pitches was that they would unlock the Aura for anyone who proved themselves. I'm talking guys lower on the totem pole than you and Chester." The hostess crossed her arms expectantly. "Three guesses what happened?"

"The Huntsmen and Huntresses found out?" John tried, wincing at the thought of being so restricted by the Academies. To his surprise, Miltia snorted.

"Hardly. By the time Headmaster Ozpin and Vale's council found out, there was nothing left of the Vices to clean up. Turns out, handing out superpowers to every idiot that could count to twenty without taking off his shoes was a bad idea. In two weeks, what members of the Vices hadn't been killed in the power struggle of the century had been picked off or recruited by other gangs. Junior had heard about their tactics, but he hadn't been sure. Now, he owns a lot of turf that used to belong to the Vices." Which meant that no matter what John did for Junior, the likelihood of him getting his Aura unlocked was slim. It was a frustrating prospect, but he couldn't really fault the big man for that.

"I see. Well, what's the other way to unlock it? Maybe I can go that route." Miltia winced at the question, and it only made his hopes plummet further.

"Yeah, see. Having it unlocked for you is the easy way. The hard way is to put your own life in such danger that it activates on its own. Apparently, when you reach the absolute point between living and dying, your soul has a tendency to step in and shift the balance. However, it's so dangerous to reach that point that most people who go through it weren't trying to activate their Aura in the first place. They just wanted to survive." John briefly considered it, but he threw the notion away. Even if he could manufacture a situation where his Aura was unlocked, it wouldn't stop Abigail from burying him underneath Beacon.

"Yeah, my wife would kill me if I tried to do something that way." John put his hands on his hips and sighed. "Ah well. Thanks, anyway Miltia. Anything I can do to help around here?" John figured if she was willing to part with info like she had, the least he could do was offer to help. The crimson dressed girl reached into host stand and drew out a scroll, black and sleek unlike the standard one that Jaune had.

"If you're on your way home, can you drop this off at Maurice's place? The idiot left it behind during his cleanup this morning." One of the night shift guys that actually wasn't involved in shakedowns and thievery. John had met him in passing, but only really knew where he lived because the Marstons were so close by. Hell, Abigail knew more about the guy than John did. John took the scroll and pocketed it, offering a grin in return.

"Sure. Only fair to return it, or we'll never get him to come back." Miltia chuckled at his joke, then waved him off with a smile.

"Thanks John. Be safe getting home." The outlaw nodded in return and went back toward the door he'd come in from. He didn't want to disrupt The Club's more legitimate business, after all. As he left, he never noticed the pair of eyes watching him from one of the tables. As the door closed, those same green eyes stared at the door for a moment. Until a hand came up in front of his face, prompting the man to look back at his dining partner.

"Were you even listening, sir? Or did you space out again?" A very annoyed Glynda Goodwitch demanded. The blonde woman glared at her superior, and the gray headed man had the good graces to look sheepish.

"Not quite, Glynda. Just doing some...information gathering." He brushed off her irritation with an easy smile, but his eyes were sharp as he stared at the door. The man from before that had been asking about Aura matched the description of someone Ozpin had heard about, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what...

John found his way home easily enough, just a few blocks from The Club. It was deep enough into the city to stay away from obvious criminal activity, but still within Junior's turf. That way, John didn't have to worry as much about Abigail or Jack being in danger. His service with Junior these past few weeks had been enough to bring them into the Xiong Family fold. That came with perks, including neighborhood security and even a sponsorship to a nearby school.

Jack wasn't fond of school at first, but being around a bunch of other children his age had helped him grow. Many of them were children of the other gang members, but many locals that were unaffiliated attended the school as well. Jack didn't have many friends yet, but John knew he would make some in time.

If Jack had attended school in Saint Denis or Valentine, he would have been an outcast at best, a pariah at worst. Most children in towns and cities had grown up together and formed cliques, and any newcomers had difficulty integrating. Much like society itself. In Vale, however, Jack's imagination and stories from America had earned him attention. In a world like Remnant, stories and fairy tales were rampant, and anyone with a good story became pretty popular. The fact that it was true had no bearing on how the kids looked at Jack.

John knocked on Maurice's door not ten minutes later, and returned the man's scroll with a smile and a wave. The middle aged man apologized for the trouble, but John waved off his thanks and headed home not long after that. The front stoop of the apartment building they living in was made of brick and concrete, just a series of small steps leading into the building itself. The apartment manager kept it and the foyer clean, and so far they hadn't had any issues with the man. John walked into the small foyer, nodding to the night guard that sat behind a bank of monitors. The security cams showed the hallway for each floor, as well as the front stoop and the laundry room. Truly, technology was amazing. Abigail couldn't stop lauding the merits of the washer and dryer, and had been able to join Jack in his studies. Her reading was far ahead of what it had been in America, and she had begun searching for a job outside of the apartment. John's work brought in enough money to live on, but Abby wasn't content to simply live. She would thrive in this new world, and drag John along with her.

With that thought in mind, John made it up the stairs to the second floor, where he could already smell dinner through the door. The key went into the lock almost faster than John could turn it, and he stepped through the door with a wide grin on his face.

"Honey, I'm home!"

* * *

The cell doors opened and closed with a frequency that was both irritating and reminded him of his hopelessness. The other inmates received visits, both professional and personal, with enough time in between to bring on the illusion of sleep. But never rest, as the next visit would awaken him with the loud clanking of metal gates and jingling keys. Once night fell, the visits would cease, but the guards allowed for no rest with their untimely patrols. He would sleep, fitfully, only to have some blue uniformed bastard come by with his baton and rattle the bars.

It was once considered in ancient times that sleep deprivation was the most efficient form of torture. At least, he had gleaned that from a number of texts on their journey through America. Only now did he see how effective it was. Alone, his every movement and interaction controlled by the government, and Dutch Van der Linde's greatest complaint was how little sleep he was getting. The man rolled over on his cot, wondering just how long the bureaucracy of the American Justice System would stall his execution. Bill and Javier had managed to escape, but without Dutch, Hosea, or Arthur, there was little the two could accomplish. Javier was brave and Bill was strong, but the two didn't have enough of a brain between them to accomplish anything significant.

Another gate down the hallway signaled the coming of another visitor. A wife, and child, maybe even a lawyer if the sap involved had any money. Regardless, it meant nothing to him. Dutch had been abandoned by those he had cared for. Betrayed by Micah, left for dead by Pearson and the Marston family. Even Arthur...

The thought of his wayward son brought another cold fire to Dutch's gut, dragging him further and further into his spiraling depression. Arthur had been sick, dying even from a terminal disease. But that didn't stop him from sending a madwoman to tear the gang apart and kill Micah. Her claims of Micah's collusion with the Pinkertons might have had some merit, but that had nothing to do with John and Abigail deserting him when he had needed them most. Which apparently had been Arthur's plan all along.

"They betrayed me...all of them..." Dutch muttered to himself, torn between anger and despair. Arthur had moved on, most likely dead and buried by this point. John was nowhere to be seen, and everyone that had wronged him in the end had gotten what they wanted. All except him.

The rattle of a baton on his cell door interrupted Dutch's musings. He rolled over far enough to cast an eye at the door, and found a prison guard standing there.

"Wake up, Van der Linde. You have a visitor." The officer reported, stepping back immediately to allow room for someone to step up. Curious, Dutch rolled over and sat up. As the guard placed the key in the lock and opened the door, Dutch's jaw dropped at the man that stepped inside.

"Hello there, Mr. Van der Linde! I'll be representing you in the coming trial. My name is Isaac Norman." The posh accent was still there, as well as a flare for the theatrics. The guard might have believed it, but Dutch knew that he was looking at Josiah Trelawny. Dutch looked between his disguised friend and the guard before finally realizing that he was required to speak.

"Well, come in, mister Norman. I'm sure we have much to discuss." Dutch slid toward the wall on his cot, allowing room for Josiah to sit. The man stepped into the cell with a confident stride, but paused before he sat down. The con artist turned and looked at the guard expectantly.

"May I have some privacy with my client? Attorney-client privilege is a sacred thing, you know." The guard bristled and crossed his arms, clearly not willing to cooperate.

"My orders are to make sure you don't orchestrate an escape. Dutch Van der Linde is notorious for schemes like that." Trelawny was unfazed by his words, and looked away with a whimsical sigh.

"Very well, listen in if you must. However, if the prosecution says anything that even remotely sounds like it came from this discussion, I will use the resulting mistrial to have you dismissed. I'm sure that's not a discussion you want to have with your sergeant, mister Jacobs." Trelawny was all confidence, his voice even as if he were stating the results from the day's races. He kept his eyes on the guard, and there was a tense few moments of silence. Finally, Jacobs relented and stepped back.

"You've got fifteen minutes. When I get back, your meeting is over." He closed the door with a slam, locking it and stepping away to leave them in peace. Josiah waited a few moments to make sure the guard was really gone, then took a seat next to Dutch with a grunt.

"What a charming fellow." The con artist muttered, shaking his head at the guard's behavior. When he turned to Dutch, he found the gang leader giving a pitiful, searching look.

"Why are you here, Josiah? Come to say goodbye?" Trelawny's mustache curled as he smirked, dusting off his shoulder before he adjusted himself to be more comfortable on the cot. Which was difficult to do, considering all the lumps.

"No, nothing of the sort. Though I can see things aren't going so well for you." Dutch scoffed at the understatement. "In either case, I'm assuming you haven't heard?" Dutch wearily groaned, wondering just what kind of new Josiah could have. None of it was good these days.

"What could possibly have happened that prompted you to come here?" Dutch asked despondently, not seeing the logic in braving the state pen just to give Dutch an update on current events. Granted, Josiah made himself scarce whenever he helped them on the big jobs, but the man had a few run ins of his own with the law. He was tempting fate just by being there, and under a false name, no less.

"Well my boy, I'm here for a multitude of things. I've news, first and foremost, and a request. We can discuss further from there." Josiah cleared his throat. "I regret to inform you that Mr. Williamson and Mr. Escuella have both been captured by the law. They shipped Bill all the way to New York, and let Mexico have Javier. I'm afraid we won't be seeing either of them again." Another pained look crossed Dutch's face at the loss of more of his boys. The last two to stick by him, even when all others had betrayed him.

"Of course we won't. Hell, you're the first person I've seen these past few weeks that wasn't wearing a star or stripes." Dutch looked down at his own ratty uniform, nothing like the resplendent vest and hat he had been notorious for. The dapper outlaw, reduced to this? It made him want to vomit. Josiah patted him comfortingly on the shoulder, though he noticed that the man's grip was much stronger than he remembered.

"What happened, Dutch? I managed to speak to Bill for a moment before they whisked him away, but he had the most outlandish things to say. That you had been attacked by a witch?" Dutch's eyes hardened, and the memory of that fateful day came back to him in glaring focus. The day that woman had come, sent by Arthur, to take everything he had left. _"His last dying wish was that John Marston and his family get away from you."_ She'd said it so accusingly, as if she knew even half of what they had suffered, what had been taken from them. Her ignorance could be forgiven in time, but Arthur knew full-goddamn-well what had happened. And he had sent the silver eyed devil to them anyway.

"She didn't attack us. If she had been there to kill us, the Pinkertons and the government would have no need for this cell. Not when she could deflect bullets with a damn sword and take a shot to the back of the head. No, she came for Marston." Dutch looked back at Josiah, and there was a hint of desperation in his eyes. "She said Arthur had sent her, shortly before he died. My boy set a demon upon us! Why?! To punish me like I'm somehow responsible for all this hardship? Didn't he realize that I was suffering just as much as the rest of us?!" Dutch made to stand up, to begin a tirade to end all tirades. He tried, but the weaselly, weak, never-raised-a-fist-in-his-life Josiah Trelawny didn't let him move a muscle. If anything, he pushed Dutch down further with an iron grip.

"Dutch, I need you to focus. Tell me about the woman. What did she look like? What did her sword look like? Did she say anything?" The gang leader turned and looked at Josiah again, his eyes narrowed at the unprecedented strength and seriousness the man was showing. Trelawny had always relied on illusions, sleight of hand and misdirection to get by. He'd never been able to manhandle one of the Van der Linde gang, let alone Dutch himself. His eyes narrowed, and he wondered just how long Josiah had been hiding this strength.

Reluctantly, Dutch recalled how the strange woman had entered his camp with Micah and Agent Milton in tow, and had completely torn him apart without inflicting a serious injury or taking any kind of damage. When he got to the part after she had left, Trelawny held up a hand.

"I was afraid of that. It seems that I miscalculated." The cheerful Josiah Trelawny was gone, replaced by this calculating man. He twirled his mustache as he thought, leaving Dutch in suspense as he considered something. "Yes, I see. There are new pieces on the board." Trelawny stood up, facing the door as he did so. Their time was almost up, by Dutch's reckoning. But he had gotten more questions than answers.

"What the hell are you talking about, Josiah?" Had the man gone mad? Just what he needed, sharing a cell with the last of his gang right when his mind cracked. A fine end to the tale of Dutch Van der Linde. Josiah turned around, a searching look on his face as he studied Dutch. Unsure of what Josiah was looking for and caring very little considering his overall situation, Dutch just stared back.

"Very well. I see I have no choice. We're in need of some assistance anyway. Tell me Dutch; what would you say if I offered you a job?" A what? "I'm afraid your gang is no more, and the hierarchy of my organization may be a little different than what you are used to. Still, I'm sure it will be far better than the alternative." Josiah had truly lost his mind. Dutch stood up to look him in the eye, but there was no quirk of the lips, no twinkle in his eye. Josiah was serious.

"I'll do any damn thing you need me to. But it's gonna be hard to do anything when they wrap a noose around my neck in two weeks." Dutch waved a hand at dapper illusionist. "What the hell kind of organization are you talking about? Is this what you've been doing whenever you go off and disappear for weeks on end?"

"None of that now, Dutch. We're short on time. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and _trust me_, Dutch. I can make all this go away." He gestured at the cell, the door, and the cot. "But what comes after may not be what you wish. We'll be dealing with the devil this time. Quite literally, I'm afraid." What the hell was he talking about? The occult, maybe? A certain amount of apprehension settled in Dutch's gut, but at the same time...what did he have left to lose? His gang was scattered to the wind, any chance of his dream coming true along with them. Arthur was dead, John on the run, and the last two loyal souls would be dead before the year's end. If Javier wasn't, already.

"Alright. You've got me. Now tell me how we're going to get out of here before mister sunshine comes back." Josiah chuckled at that, finally showing some semblance of the man Dutch thought he had known for years. Josiah pulled out a pocket watch, looking down at it for a moment before he snapped it shut and cursed.

"Blast. Running late again. A terrible habit for me, I'm afraid. Just one last question, Dutch." He held out his hand, and either it was a trick of the light, or did it shimmer? "What's your favorite fairy tale?"

When the guard came back, the door was locked, just as he left it. He opened the cell door, however, and immediately began calling for help. Because Dutch Van der Linde was gone, and so was his attorney. In fact, the only thing left inside the cell was a small calling card, with a white rabbit printed on one side.

* * *

Taiyang Xiao Long just couldn't get enough of listening to his daughters squabbling over schoolwork. Ruby and Yang were both excited to go to Beacon soon, and Signal Academy just wasn't challenging anymore. Yang was due to transfer for Beacon in a few more years, and Ruby wasn't far behind her. They'd even made their own weapons already, fitting to their strengths and styles. He and Qrow were leaning harder on them in class now, pushing them to work even harder.

A few parents had cried about special treatment, but considering the difference between how he treated his kids and how he treated their kids was determined by the five hundred extra pounds Yang had to punch, the complaints were largely unfounded. He knew what Yang was capable of, and she asked him to push her as hard as he could. It worried him, though. Yang had done a lot to step in after Summer disappeared, and he had to wonder if she was pushing too hard and why. Whenever he asked her about it, the blonde girl just brushed him off with another corny joke and went back to what she was doing. If it was her way of coping with losing both of her mothers, then Tai had no real reason to stop her. But it didn't stop him from worrying.

Ruby, on the other hand, was taking off with her studies and her style. Her Semblance allowed her to move at ridiculous speeds, and Qrow mentioning that a sharp blade cuts more at higher velocity had been all the excuse she had needed to take up the scythe like her uncle. Unlike good ol' Qrow, she was working on fitting a sniper rifle into the workings as well, though the young girl was still struggling on that front. There were a lot of moving parts in a mecha shift weapon, and the designs she had for her scythe were ambitious, but still largely theory at this point. Qrow worked with her when he could, but between traveling and teaching, the old lush didn't have the time to help her completely. Still, Tai was proud that Ruby pushed ahead regardless.

The blonde man pulled another plate out of the soapy water and set it in the drying rack, reaching for a glass he had just rinsed. The water was hot, all the better to clean the dishes, but it left him flushed. The window above the sink swung outward easily, and the gentle breeze brought immediate relief. Tai sighed in contentment and stepped away to find a towel for his hands. From what he could hear of the girls, Yang was being stubborn over her Aura theory, and what she was screaming wasn't _quite_ right.

Tai listened to the girls bicker for a few more moments before he decided to head upstairs, but a clatter behind him made him pause. Tai turned around, alert for any suspicious activity, and found the plate he had just set aside back in the sink, its round edge sticking halfway out of the soapy water. In its place on the drying rack was a small paper note, folded neatly. Tai looked from the note to the window with apprehension, and shut the window and locked it before he grabbed the note. His hands were still damp from the dishwater, but thankfully it was a very simple message.

_Come outside – alone._ Next to it, a rose emblem that he had not seen in many years. Tai stared down at the note for a few seconds, then crushed it in his grip. Was this some kind of sick joke? Stalk him until he left a window open, then leave a note with his dead wife's crest?! Oh, he was coming out alone alright, and anyone involved was going to be thoroughly thrashed for this.

Ruby and Yang's argument completely forgotten, Tai stomped over to the front door with a thunderous expression. He threw the door open, scanning the front porch for threats. None sprang to mind, but the side of the house with the kitchen window was opposite of the front door. Tai turned left, toward the shadowed portion of the house. Up above him, the shattered moon shone down on Remnant like the world's largest street lamp. It provided decent light, but the shadows of his house still hid the ground closest to the wall. He turned the corner, tensed and ready for a fight, but he was not prepared for the sight he found.

In the shadows cast by his home, a woman stood quietly, a white cloak pulled up around her with a hood, covered everything except her chin. She stood in a relaxed pose, leaning forward slightly as if she would take off running at any moment. Just like Summer had. Was this some kind of copycat, someone looking to torment him with the image of his dead wife. First her crest, then her cloak, now this?!

Unless...

"Who the hell are you?" Tai demanded hotly, his fists clenching so hard that his knuckles popped. "What's the big idea, dressing like Summer?" At his challenge, the woman winced, or as best he could tell from her exposed face. She did not respond, her silence pensive as if she were considering his words. When no answer came forth, he stepped forward threateningly. "Well?"

In response, the woman tilted her head up. And Taiyang gasped at the silver eyes that looked back at him. Even worse, she was crying. Tears ran freely down her cheeks, and she even sniffled like Summer had. Like Ruby did when she was upset.

"Tai...I'm so sorry..." She whispered, almost afraid to say his name. But that was her voice; was there a Semblance out there that could mimic a dead woman like this? The words knocked his breath from his lungs, and Taiyang took a small step back. He blinked, then shook his head and blinked again. But Summer remained, standing in front of him in all her glory. Snotty nose and all.

"What is this? You can't be Summer? This is..." The pain of her loss those years ago stole anything further from his lips, He'd already been down that road, and the grief had nearly killed him. Not only that, but the girls had been hurt too. But she couldn't be here!

"It's me, Tai. I swear." Her voice trembled, but it was Summer's voice all the same. "I was injured, and had to go into hiding for a while. If you had known, you would have come after me. And they...they threatened the girls, Tai! I couldn't let them hurt Ruby and Yang!" Summer apologized, her eyes wide and frantic as she begged him to believe her. Tai had heard something about what Qrow had found in Vacuo. Craters everywhere, blood and some strange venom lying around. More of it Summer's than not. They had assumed that the Grimm had claimed her body, bandits the rest. It was an easy conclusion to reach in the lives of Huntsmen and Huntresses. And he wanted to believe; Gods, did he want that more than anything. But all the hurt of losing her came rushing back all at once and cemented his feet to the ground.

"...Summer?" He choked the name out, and it was enough to spur her into motion. The silver eyes warrior sobbed in relief and dove forward, wrapping her arms around Tai's neck. The blonde man was so shocked, he couldn't possibly react. He simply stared ahead, frozen as Summer sobbed into his shoulder as she clung to him. After a few moments, however, the paralysis ended.

Summer gasped when Tai's strong arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest as he returned her embrace. He towered over her, but she could hear the sobs he had been fighting ever since he'd first laid eyes on her.

"Summer...we looked for you for so long." He whispered, and she could feel tears dropping onto her hair. She said nothing in return, simply savoring the feeling of his embrace that she had craved for so long. Man and wife stood there for a time neither could recall, long after the tears had dried. When he finally got a hold on himself, Tai wrapped his hands around Summer's shoulders and looked down at her.

"What happened, Summer? Why did it take you so long to come home?" He looked her over, but there was no obvious sign of a permanent injury. Not the kind that would have kept her away for years. Summer sniffled and wiped her eyes, but her sad smile still shone in the moonlight.

"I'll explain everything, I swear. I'm so sorry it took so long for me to come back. You wouldn't believe who convinced me." She said with a breathy laugh. Tai cocked a brow, and she chuckled again. "It was Ray. Raven sent me back. She took my place, and sent me here to protect my family." Taiyang blinked, somehow even more surprised. Not only had his wife returned to him, but his ex-wife had sent her back to him? This...this was all too much. When he said as much, Summer winced.

"I'm sorry, Tai. I never should have stayed away as long as I did. But the ones that attacked me, they threatened to come after you and the girls. And they were so strong..." She shivered at the memory of the fight that had nearly killed her. "I sent someone here to bring Ozpin the Relic. He should have been here by now." Tai was well aware of the struggles of Ozpin and Salem, but he hadn't heard anything from Qrow in some time concerning the Maidens or the Relics. Then again, he'd dropped all that stuff after it had cost him his wife, so maybe Qrow had just decided to keep it a secret.

"We'll figure all that out later. Right now, I need to know what happened." And so, she told him. The ambush in Vacuo, how she had found the gateway that led to America. Stealing the Relic of Choice had been especially tricky, but once Summer had it she made her way back to America to hide out. When she explained meeting Arthur and activating his Aura, Tai hand to stop her.

"You sent a man you had only know for a period of hours into a world he had no idea about, with one of the four most powerful things on the planet in his saddlebag? And then, you just somehow _hoped_ that he would find his way to Ozpin?" Tai sighed heavily. "Honey, that's kind of really, really dumb." He said it as gently as possible, but Summer pouted harder all the same.

"I didn't have any other choice! The gateway was unlocked thanks to me, but I'd used up my choice when I did that. Arthur saved me and needed a doctor, so I figured I'd send the Relic back to Oz in the same trip." Tai still looked unimpressed, but he remained silent until she finished her story.

When she did, Taiyang heaved a great sigh, then drew her into another embrace. Summer returned it, glad to finally hold her husband for the first time in years. When they separated again, she stepped back, though she kept a firm grip on his hand.

"I'm sorry, Tai. I should have come back earlier, but I was afraid that Salem's people would go after Ruby or Yang. If they thought I was dead, they would at least leave them alone for a few years. I was scared." Tai ruffled her hair, causing another pout. It was just like he had done when they had gone to Beacon together, and she had reacted the same way back then too.

"I understand. I know it must have been terrifying, but I'm just glad you're back. Wait until the girls see you." He turned and nearly dragged her toward the front door, Summer squawking in surprise as his superior strength brought her along for the ride. Tai threw the door open and dragged her in, his excitement visible in how the door frame cracked. Summer winced at the damage, but was able to close the door without much difficulty.

"RUBY! YANG! COME DOWN HERE!" Tai barked forcefully, though there was a smile on his face. The girls had been arguing earlier, so they would likely come downstairs thinking they were about to be scolded for arguing. There was a scuffle upstairs, along with some more heated words, then he could hear the stomping of feet coming down the stairs. Yang came first, as she usually did during their arguments, and was so busy defending herself that she didn't even seem to notice Summer. The young blonde was wearing an orange t-shirt and some brown gym shorts, already changed into her pajamas.

"Ruby started it! She said she knew more about how Nevermore attack than I did, and...she..." Yang's voice died down along with her temper as she slowly realized just who was standing in the living room. Ruby came down a second later, dressed in a long sleep shirt and pajama bottoms covered in little cartoon Beowulfs.

"Yang, don't tell lies like that! Mom never let you get away with that!" She protested hotly, before realizing that her rambunctious older sister had fallen silent. When she noticed, Ruby too turned to face Summer, and her eyes went as wide as her sister's had. The two just stood there, processing what they were seeing, but Summer couldn't help but squirm.

They had both grown so much, and Tai had raised them on his own. Would Yang resent her, for leaving her behind as Raven had? Would Ruby, for never being there for her? Would they hate her for abandoning them? All these worries ran through her mind, but Summer toughed it out and put on a watery smile. She couldn't stop the tears that ran down her face, however.

"Look at you two. You've grown so big!" She spluttered, her voice breaking as she did so. And like that, the spell was broken.

"MOM!" The two girls shouted in unison, and Summer had never been more glad to be tackled to the ground. She landed on her butt with a grunt, but soon found herself buried in a mane of yellow hair as Yang latched onto her. Judging by the weight on her right side, Ruby had the same idea. Now, all three of them were crying. Yang and Ruby both blubbered words she couldn't even begin to understand as they clung to her, like they were afraid she would disappear again at any time. Summer held them close and sobbed a bit herself, but her tears were those of happiness. She looked up at Taiyang, and the smile on his face was the biggest he had seen since Ruby had been born. The blonde man stooped down and wrapped his arms around his family, pulling them close as the girls all cried together. Summer let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, and she smiled even despite the tears running down her face.

She was home.

* * *

**A/N:** A tearful reunion long overdue, in my opinion. I was looking forward to this scene ever since I made the decision to bring Summer back. Arthur will be clearing up his Vale troubles next chapter too, but I have to make some revisions before we see chapter 17. A reviewer said that Arthur seemed to be stuck on a lot of side quests, but my man: Red Dead Redemption is all about them side quests! If all you play are story missions, you ain't playing right.

Writing for you guys is fun, and I love to read the reviews, but I can't express what this outlet does for me, too. I had my first suicide attempt call on my shift last night, and it really hit home. I got the girl the help she needed, but while I was cataloging evidence I found a bunch of suicide notes addressed to different people. The pain and lack of self worth in those letters had me sitting in my cruiser for a little bit. Writing this story and others brings me joy, both in the responses I get as well as shaping the stories themselves. But if you or someone you know are considering self harm, please talk to someone. I promise you that you can get through whatever storm you face, even if you need to ask for help. Even if you don't call 911, a friend or family member can be all the support you need. And if a friend calls you and asks for help, please support them as best you can. This is a cold and brutal world we live in, and all we have is each other.

P.S. PeppyClown, I know I keep missing you, but I promise we'll kick some ass together.


	17. Chapter 17

A lot of predictions for Volume 4 and onward. Boys and girls, we haven't seen Volume 1 yet. The COVID – 19 pandemic has us working seven day shifts, so I've been to drained to contribute to this. Hopefully we can get a little momentum going here. This one is going to be a little slow, but it will be building up to the heist.

* * *

**Chapter 17**

"So that's it, huh?" Arthur crossed his arms as he stood next to John, both of them at the Bullhead station on the northern side of Vale. Across a dense forest the likes of which he had never seen, Beacon sat on a plateau. It was larger than he could have imagined. Although, that could also apply to Vale itself. He still couldn't get over how large the city was. And Beacon was in another class altogether.

Spires and towers climbing high into the sky, all white and gray stone and green windows. Even from this distance, Arthur could see how the academy had gotten its name. A few Bullheads were passing between the Huntsman Academy and the city itself, one of which he would be boarding soon.

"Yeah, that's it. Never been myself, but I hear all kinds of good things about it." John leaned across the railing on Arthur's left, his newer clothes a sign that things were moving up in the world for the Marston family. On his right, however, was Sean. He still wasn't sure how to handle the young man's return, but he could see that John was skittish of him. Arthur had been through a lot of grief with Marston, but the man's instincts were solid. Something was not right with Sean McGuire.

"The hell kind o' business you got up there, English? Most of them are too good for our kind of folk." The cyborg snorted. "Unless you're trying to go back to school. Is that why you're dressed that way?" The elder outlaw was dressed in the long coat and tie that he had worn to Sienna's inauguration, thankfully cleaned and starched by Kali. Arthur glanced at the Irishman with a smirk, but shook his head.

"Nah, just running some errands. I had a friend help me out, and she asked me to do something for her in return. No good deed and all that." He left it intentionally vague, though deep down he wasn't fond of deceiving either of the men next to him. Regardless of whatever the current situation was, they had all been through a lot together. Before either man could prod any further, the sign next to the station changed.

_Next flight to Beacon: Arriving now._

All three men straightened as they watched the gray aircraft fly in, gently setting down on the landing pad and opening its doors. The larger ferries were more accommodating, but Arthur wasn't about to waste Lien avoiding a bumpy ride.

"Alright English, good luck with whatever you're doing up there. Just be careful. Not all of them goody goods are as straight as they seem." Sean clapped him on the shoulder, then stepped away toward the city. John slowly went to follow, but paused when Arthur caught his elbow.

"The hell is going on between you two, Marston? I know it's strange seeing him upright, but I've never seen you this spooked before." Arthur whispered harshly. John looked back toward the back of the retreating Irishman, then let his gaze meet Arthur's.

"He's been here for a year with no money, no job, and all he knew was what we had back home. Now he's got his brain put back together and a machine for an eye? Arthur, he's changed. Someone has got something over him, and I don't think that someone is good people." Arthur considered his words, then released the man before the person in question became suspicious. The older outlaw had been wondering about Sean's miraculous return, and there wasn't exactly a lot of fools that came to mind willing to perform expensive and extensive surgery for free. Sean had mentioned a debt when they spoke in Vacuo, but Arthur hadn't put a lot of thought to it thanks to the whole Sienna debacle. Now, he was starting to wish that he had.

"Just be careful. This is Sean we're talking about. If he's in a bad way, he'll ask for help. Just mind yourself and your family in the meantime." Arthur released John's arm and turned in the same motion, walking toward the Bullhead. John didn't follow, but just watched as the outlaw made his way to the aircraft. He turned back to follow Sean, but he couldn't fight the unsettling feeling that sat in his gut.

Boarding was a simple affair, albeit drawn out. The Bullhead had to refuel while Arthur and the other two passengers presented their tickets and what luggage they had. Considering all he had was his satchel, it was a quick affair. The attendant went to search the bag that sat on his hip, but a dangerous look from Arthur made him think twice. Since he was heading to a Huntsman Academy, it was assumed that he was a Huntsman or equivalent and no other stink was made about it.

The trip was rocky, but fast; probably ten minutes passed between take off and landing, and three of those were spent hovering to allow another craft to move from their designated landing area. Once he was on solid ground again, Arthur breathed a sigh of relief and looked around once more. Now that he was closer, Arthur could see that there was an immense courtyard that led toward the main campus. In the center of the academy, the CCT stood proud and tall, climbing higher than every other tower. The view from up there must have been something.

Figuring that was as good a place to start as any, Arthur started the slow trek from the landing pads to the school. A few of the other passengers were headed there as well, though they maintained a respectful distance and spoke among themselves. Some were students, judging by the black jackets and either black slacks or red plaid skirts. Arthur knew that compared to Remnant's standards he was old fashioned, but if he had a daughter walking around in skirts that short there would be hell to pay. Still, it wasn't his place to parent for others, despite his nagging habit of doing exactly that.

Another thing he noticed was a healthy amount of Faunus students. Not as many as their human colleagues, but he felt Sienna would approve of how accepting the academy was. A wolf Faunus here, and a rabbit Faunus over there. At the very least, she'd be glad to know that her work was already partly done in some places. Arthur blinked at the thought, then reminded himself of why he was here. He had to deliver a Relic of incredible importance, and spend at least fifteen minutes without thinking about his friend.

_Get your head together._ He admonished himself. Summer had brought him a second chance and the family he cared about. The least he could do was fulfill her last wish. After all, she wasn't coming back to Remnant.

Now that he was up close, Arthur could finally grasp the sheer size of the Cross Continental Transit Tower. Four small pillars supported the structure, but there was easily several thousand square feet on the bottom floor alone. And it was _tall_. Arthur gave up trying to estimate its height, but it was well over two hundred feet. Far larger than anything man made back home. Thirty foot windows surrounded the front half of the tower, leading to a wide base before the rest of the tower climbed into the sky. Two large sets of wooden double doors opened and closed with some regularity, and Arthur stepped forward to be the next one in.

Once he was inside, the outlaw had to catch himself. This definitely looked like something that belonged in those book Jack had loved to read so much. A soft green glow filled the room, evident from the lights set in the ground on the perimeter. In the center, a steel blue terminal stood with four green screens projected from it. An attendant dressed in white pants and shirt with a gray vest stood at one of the screens, his fingers dancing across the holographic keyboard. Arthur stepped further into the lobby, his eyes searching for a place to start. Maybe one of the consoles could help him? No, his grasp on technology was still shaky, he'd likely wind up blowing the whole tower to kingdom come.

"Can I help you?" A woman's voice came from the right, and Arthur turned to face it. A blonde woman in a black business skirt and a white blouse stood there expectantly, a clipboard in her hand. She had a strange purple cloak of some kind flowing behind her, and her bright blonde hair was controlled in a tight bun save for a few bang that fell across her stern face. A pair of glasses sat on her nose, and her green eyes gave Arthur the notion that she did not tolerate foolishness. He almost felt like he was in school again. Given the size of her chest, kinda wished he was too.

"Ma'am." Arthur cleared his throat, discarding such notions. "I'm looking for Headmaster Ozpin. I've got something for him." He patted his satchel. The woman's eyes darted to the pack for moment, the back up to his face.

"I'm afraid the headmaster is quite a busy man. Do you have an appointment? He didn't mention anything this morning." Arthur shook his head and held out Summer's scroll, indicating that she take it.

"No appointment. I'm just carrying something from an old friend." He looked around the lobby, making sure they wouldn't be overheard. "Summer Rose sent me." At the mention of her name, the woman's eyes widened considerably, and Arthur thought he heard the clipboard in her grasp creak dangerously. _Oh boy._

"That is a name I have not heard for some time." The blonde woman allowed, then opened the scroll with one hand. Arthur had kept his name on the banner of the main screen, but made Summer's family portrait the background. Well, Sienna had done it at his request. He still wasn't savvy with the things.

"Yeah. She said everyone here thought that she was dead. She asked me to deliver a...Relic." His hand settled on his satchel again with far more gravity, and the blonde woman's back straightened instantly. _That_ changed her demeanor.

"Come with me. And please, be quick about it." She spun around and began walking toward the elevators at a brisk pace, her heels clacking on the stone gray tile. Arthur followed behind her, as much to get his scroll back as to do as he was told. The woman pressed a button next to the elevator, then turned to face him once more. "I'll take you to a waiting room further up. Please do not discuss this business further until I'm certain we're in private."

"Yes ma'am." Arthur dutifully nodded, and the two stood in silence as they waited for the elevator to come down. When the doors finally opened, it revealed a sleek metal car with steel handles along the walls. Arthur followed the woman inside the elevator, watching as she pressed one of a multitude of buttons. When the doors closed, a hum surrounded them as Arthur felt the car begin to move upward.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself. My name is Glynda Goodwitch." Arthur took his scroll back and shook her outstretched hand. "I'm the deputy headmistress for Beacon Academy. I see to the day to day operations." Her grip was firm, and had strength that implied she had earned her way to the top of an academy that taught monster hunters.

"Arthur Morgan. Gunslinger, I suppose is the only real title I could have." He let his hand rest on the Peacemaker. "I met Summer a few months back, and she said she couldn't come back here. That there were people trying to kill her and her family." When he said that, Glynda's stern visage softened, and she looked away for a moment.

"To my knowledge, her family is safe. But she spoke the truth. We thought she had been killed on a mission years ago. I don't have to tell you how much of a shock it is to hear that is not true." She looked back at Arthur. "Where did you meet her? Our Huntsmen are nothing if not thorough, and the last place she was reported to be seen was... gruesome."

There was the kicker. Summer wanted her whereabouts kept secret, and she implied that telling people about America wouldn't be a good idea. So, he settled for a partial truth.

"There's some ruins out in the desert near Vacuo, about a week's walk from the city. I ran into her on accident, and she was pretty banged up. I pulled her out of the fire, and she sent me this way. She also said that she didn't want to be followed. If them that wanted her dead thought that she was, then her family would be safe." Was that hurt that crossed Glynda's face? Arthur wasn't sure, but the impassive facade returned all to quickly as the blonde woman pushed her glasses up her nose.

"I see. While I wish that she had trusted us enough to let us know, I can understand her reasons. Both of her daughters are enrolled in Huntsmen Academies, and any interference from the ones that hunted Summer would jeopardize their safety. Still..." Whatever else Glynda was about to say was interrupted by a quiet chime, and the doors opened. This time, he found a room with large, cream colored couches and a small fountain in the center. A few machines stood over in the corner, both with pictures of coffee and other drinks on the front. A few more doors lined the walls, but beyond that there wasn't anything special about it.

"This is a waiting room. Please remain here while I check in with the headmaster. Regardless of his answer, I will return shortly." Glynda instructed. Arthur stepped out of the elevator and looked around some more, then turned and nodded to the deputy.

"Appreciate it ma'am. Sorry I had to be the one to break it to ya." Whatever friendship Summer had with Glynda, hearing that she had faked her death had clearly affected the blonde in some way. She nodded cordially, and then the doors closed and the elevator hummed with life again. Judging from the sound, it was headed up.

Which left Arthur with nothing to do except wait. Taking in a deep breath and breathing out his nose, the outlaw rubbed his cheek and decided to sit down. He crossed the dozen feet from the elevator to the nearest couch and sat down – only to jump back up when he realized how soft it was. The plush leather had nearly swallowed him whole, it was so soft. Chuckling at himself for the silly reaction, Arthur sat down a bit more carefully, sinking into the couch with a sigh. He grabbed his satchel and sat it in his lap, as much to protect it from the man eating couch as it was to keep from falling asleep immediately. He opened the flap on his bag and dug around inside until his hand wrapped around the crown, the Relic of Choice. According to Summer, Ozpin and the rest had thought it safely locked away in some vault.

If the people that had flying machines, buildings that scraped the sky, and abilities that bordered on the absurd treated something with reverence and care, Arthur could only imagine what it was capable of. With that in mind, he carefully stuffed it back into the satchel, hiding behind his maps and drawings that he had collected. With nothing better to do, Arthur settled in to wait.

According to his scroll, fifteen minutes had passed. According to him, it had been an eternity and a day. Whatever business Ozpin was on must have been incredibly important, because Glynda had still not returned. No one else had come to the waiting room, though he had heard the elevator come and go a few times. If he had a table nearby, he'd see how his Semblance would affect a game of Five Finger Fillet. If he could use it to make some cash on the lower end of the city after this, he would. He needed to recoup his losses from the airship tickets.

Before Arthur could set about finding a piece of furniture stout enough to sacrifice, the elevator chimed again. A woman wearing a modest red skirt that hung past her knees and a black long sleeved shirt walked in, her dark hair covered by a black beret. She clearly wasn't there for him, so they both did the socially acceptable thing and ignored each other. The woman crossed over to the other side of the waiting room, plopping down on the couch that was not across from Arthur. Given that Glynda had not been with her, the woman either had an appointment or knew enough about Beacon to know where the Headmaster's waiting room was.

They sat in silence, both of them letting their gaze roam all over the room except for each other. On his passing appraisal, the woman had looked familiar. The only other person he had seen with hair like was in Lemoyne, or heading toward Canada by now. The woman in front of him wore a skirt like Summer had, and had the same build. If she were wearing that white cloak, he would have sworn that Summer sat right in front of him. In fact, if he didn't know any better...

Arthur sat up and stared directly at the woman, who seemed to take notice. She smiled hesitantly, not really comfortable with scrutiny. But as she did so he saw her silver eyes.

"Summer?!" The outlaw felt his jaw drop. "What the hell are you doing here?" When he said her name, Summer Rose sat bolt upright and faced him. Her eyes searched his face, and realization dawned on her seconds after Arthur stood up from that confounded couch.

"Arthur? Why are you in Beacon?" The two crossed the floor to get a closer look at each other. Summer dragged the outlaw into a hug before he could say no, leaving him patting her back awkwardly has he recovered from his confusion.

"I came to see Ozpin. I thought you were heading to Canada? What happened to 'I can never go back'?" Arthur demanded, and Summer had the decency to blush.

"Yeah, I was convinced to come back by an old friend. In the end, my absence was going to do more harm than good, so I decided to come back. The others made it to Canada, or so I assume. When I last saw them, they were close to the Great Lakes." She looked him up and down. "I like the clothes, by the way. You don't look like you're about to fall over dead." Arthur gently pushed her away to a comfortable distance, his jaw working as he realized the whole reason he had come to Remnant, besides the medical attention, had been rendered moot.

"Yeah, had to attend a few parties since I got here. Civil rights and all that. Figured if I was bringing a Relic to Ozpin, I might as well look like somebody." When he mentioned the crown, Summer's chipper demeanor tanked. Her eyes grew wide, and she almost looked insulted.

"You only JUST NOW brought it to Beacon?! What the hell, Arthur? I brought you here months ago!" Arthur bristled at the criticism, putting his hands on his hips.

"When you tied me to my horse and hoped the poor animal would drag me in the right direction, you mean. And I've had a few folks help me out that needed help in return. Seeing as how I didn't even know Faunus _existed_ before you tossed me into a city full of them, I think I've done pretty well for myself." Summer crossed her arms and pouted, sticking her lip out. He almost expected her to stomp in frustration.

"Arthur, that thing is incredibly powerful, and dangerous! What could have happened to stop you from getting it here right away?" She demanded, as if it had been as simple as taking the wrong turn months ago. Arthur stroked his beard in faux contemplation, his tone taking on a sarcastic edge.

"Well let's see here. I was chased out of Vacuo by a bunch of mobsters, fought a sea dragon, that was fun by the way," He ticked off his accomplishments on one hand, "fought a drunk guy pissed at me on _your_ account, got kidnapped by said drunk's bandit leader of a sister, and assisted in a nonviolent take over of the White Fang. It ain't like I've been fishing for the time I've been here." Though he did do that in Menagerie. There had been quite a bit of fishing on the island paradise.

"I..." Whatever else Summer had to say obviously did not measure up to what he had said, and she deflated a little bit. "I'm sorry, Arthur. It took some convincing, but I realized that sending you back here blind did more harm than if I had just come back myself. I didn't mean for you to go through all of that." She apologized. Arthur let his temper run for a few moments more, then he too cooled down. The outlaw looked away from her big watery eyes, then patted her on the shoulder awkwardly.

"Ah, it's alright I suppose. Well," he allowed. "not alright, but I know you didn't mean for all that to happen. I'm just glad you're back with your family, is all. Even if Qrow was mighty sore about it." Which reminded him that the man had promised to keep in touch, but he hadn't said a word to Arthur since. Either he was reporting to his superiors and simply had nothing to say, or he thought that Arthur would just lie to him anyway.

"I can only imagine how hard Qrow took it when I disappeared. He split off from his sister and the rest of their tribe to become a real Huntsman, and we became his family. Raven had abandoned us, and after I left..." Summer's own speculation cut her off as she imagined her teammate, thinking her dead. He'd never been good at coping with serious loss, playing off anything that bothered him with humor.

"Well, he smelled like the cheapest tavern I've ever passed when I met him, and was swinging that sword before I could explain anything. Seemed like he was a few sheets in the wind." Summer blinked at his response, then smirked. Her mood seemed to improve a little bit, though for what reason Arthur couldn't fathom.

"He just used his sword on you? Ah, he wasn't serious then. Sorry about that, regardless. Qrow always was quick to pick a fight. It was just bad luck that you ran into him." The way she said that last part, it was as if she was laughing at some joke Arthur hadn't heard. Come to think of it, Qrow had said something about luck when Arthur had dumped his rounds during their fight. Maybe people from Remnant looked at luck differently?

"In any case, I had quite a few hiccups between here and the last time I saw ya. How about you? I know the Marstons made it, but how did everyone else make out?" Summer winced, recalling what she had been doing when Raven had cornered her. According to Charles, there were no real threats between the point she left the caravan and the Canadian border. From what he and Sadie had explained to her, the Canadian government didn't make too much of a fuss when it came to fugitives from America. There were a few exceptions of course; Micah Bell or Dutch Van der Linde would have never been allowed through. The Wapiti nation and the few remaining from the Van der Linde gang, however? Not worth the paperwork and the unpleasant monster that was the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

"Well, I'm sure John told you how things ended with Dutch?" When Arthur nodded, she sighed. "Things didn't get much better, but we got the others out and escorted the Wapiti to Canada. They were passing Chicago when I came back here." Arthur scratched his chin and looked away from her, his hands falling to his hips more from habit than anything. He didn't answer Summer, and just stared at the wall, his eyes unfocused.

John had gone over how Summer had killed Micah and Agent Milton, and left Dutch to stew in his madness with wounded hands and wounded pride. He felt conflicted over the resolution of his gang, but he couldn't really expect a different outcome. Or a better one, at least. Honestly, were it not for Summer's intervention John would have been hanged, his family left to starve or worse given the free reign that Micah and his cronies had enjoyed. But knowing that Dutch was finally gone, the last shadow of his past snuffed out, it ruled out any urge that he had to return to America. Not that it had really bothered him, staying in Remnant, but knowing the others were gone... it left a hollow feeling in his chest. One he would have to ponder later.

Arthur finally realized that Summer was watching him intently. Clearing his throat, Arthur pointedly ignored her questioning look and turned toward the elevator. He could hear the machines in the shaft moving the next car up, and almost hoped that it was coming to their floor. Anything to avoid the discussion Summer seemed keen on having right now.

"How long have you been back, anyway? I'm assuming you found yer family." If she noticed how he was trying to change the subject, she didn't comment on it.

"I met back up with my husband and our daughters, if that's what you're asking. Beyond that, no one else really knows-" The gentle chime of the elevator interrupted the silver eyed woman, and both she and Arthur turned to face the elevator doors. The humming in the shaft stopped abruptly, this time coming from above if Arthur's ears could be trusted. For a moment, nothing happened, and then the center doors opened to reveal Glynda Goodwitch once more. Behind her stood an elderly man that Arthur presumed to be Ozpin.

The elderly man leaned on a cane, though from his stance Arthur knew full well he didn't need it. He carried a mug with the wreathed axes of Beacon Academy, a dark concoction steaming within as he sipped it. The man was clean shaven, but his hair was gray and tousled atop his head, the messy locks almost hiding his piercing brown eyes. A crooked pair of round spectacles sat on his nose, shaded green and meant for reading by how low they sat on his nose. He wore a black suit buttoned up over a green vest, with a green scarf at his throat. Black slacks and black shoes of impressive make rounded out the outfit, and managed to convey a sense of importance without going overboard. What made Arthur assume that he was old, however, was the look in his eyes.

Ozpin's eyes were relaxed, almost to the point of being unfocused, but there was some weight to his gaze as well. He looked as if he was watching a play for the hundredth time, and knew every twist, line, and punchline. Those eyes regarded the room calmly, though they did widen slightly when they fell upon Summer. But they only widened.

Glynda's reaction was far more pronounced, which he could was rare from his brief encounter with her. The blonde woman's mouth dropped open in shock, and she froze for a moment. Summer winced at their reactions, then offered a shy wave. It was almost as if she was she hadn't told them she was still alive...

_Oh come on, Summer!_

"Hi, Glynda. Headmaster." The silver eyed warrior greeted hesitantly, undoubtedly ready to face the wrath of the school teachers. Ozpin blinked, but whatever he was about to say died on his tongue as Glynda rushed forward, her heels clicking on the tile as she enveloped Summer in a hug. Arthur stepped back as his friend was wrapped up, as much to avoid Summer's flailing arms as to give them some space out of respect.

Summer, on the other hand, was completely blindsided. Given Glynda's stern and proper demeanor, she had expected a dressing down the likes of which she had never seen when she was a student. Instead, Beacon's taskmaster and deputy headmistress was hugging her tightly, and she could feel moisture on her cheek. Hesitantly, the younger woman reached up and returned the hug, still not quite sure what was happening.

Glynda held her for a moment more, then stepped back gingerly, bringing her hand up and wiping away tears with her wrist. Summer just blinked owlishly.

" I...we..." The deputy took a moment to compose herself. "When Qrow told us about your last mission, we thought you were dead. To see you here is..." Slowly, the blonde woman drew herself back up into the stern disciplinarian she was known to be, but Ozpin's hand on her shoulder kept her silent.

"What Glynda is trying to say is that we are so very glad to see you alive and well, Summer. What remains, however, is how you survived. And why you chose to wait until now to reveal yourself." Ozpin's words were kind, but Arthur felt a little apprehensive all the same. He was taking the surprise remarkably well, and the first thing he did after expressing his joy at seeing her alive and well was to ask her where she had been. It was an expected question, surely, but the transition from surprise to question was too fluid. It made Arthur uneasy.

"Well, I had hoped to soften the blow when I sent Arthur here." Summer explained, gesturing toward the outlaw and damning him to further conversation. "Unfortunately, he wasn't able to make it here before me, so I have to spring this on you all at once. Can we go to the office, please? There are some sensitive things to talk about."

Arthur blanched when she waved him toward the elevator, and he had no choice but to follow Glynda and Ozpin into the elevator. Summer followed right behind him, blocking any chance of escape. He sent her a withering glare, but she didn't meet his eyes. She knew what she was doing, alright.

"I'm sorry. It was such a monumental revelation, I failed to introduce myself." Ozpin turned to face Arthur, his cane falling to his left hand easily as he offered his right. "Professor Ozpin of Beacon Academy." Arthur took it and shook, realizing with fading surprise that the old man fell onto the growing list of people that had more strength than he would have guessed.

"Arthur Morgan." He released Ozpin's hand and scratched his cheek awkwardly. "I helped Summer out of a bind a few months back, and she returned the favor. I ran into some Grimm and a few irritable birds, otherwise I'd have been here already." At the mention of birds, Ozpin's brown eyes crinkled with mirth.

"Ah. A crow and a raven, I assume. I was wondering when I would get to meet the man that had frustrated Qrow so badly." Glynda looked between the two men, and realization dawned on her.

"If it's any consolation, you are already far more polite than he described." She added, and Arthur let out a short bark of a laugh.

"Only because I'm in the presence of ladies, ma'am. Don't let it fool ya." Arthur offered a cheeky grin. "If the bird were here, I can assure you that it would be a lesson in bad manners." Glynda frowned at his words, more likely because he had refused her compliment than what was actually said. The rest of the ride was spent in relative silence, with Glynda and Ozpin processing the monumental news they had just received. Summer seemed cowed by her secret coming to light. Arthur just plain didn't want to be there, but he couldn't abandon Summer and risk slighting some really important people if he had no beef with them.

When the elevator opened, it revealed a wide window that looked out over Vale, with a large desk situated in front of it. A few black chairs sat in front of the desk, with a larger and more comfortable looking one on the window side of it. What made Arthur's jaw drop, however, were the cogs. Above them, under the desk, even in the wall itself; massive clockwork cogs turned and clanked in harmony all around them. The other three marched out of the elevator as if it were nothing special, but Arthur spent a few choice seconds taking in the strange and grand spectacle in front of him.

_Ozpin REALLY likes clocks._ Arthur thought to himself, content on allowing that simple description to sum up the Headmaster. Shaking his head, he walked into the office and allowed the elevator doors to close. Ozpin took his place behind his desk with an easy stride, his cane tapping on the floor at a steady pace. Glynda took her place beside him, looking every bit the stern assistant despite the rare show of emotion earlier. When Ozpin reached his seat, he gestured toward two of the three in front of his desk. Summer sat down promptly, reminding Arthur once again that she had attended here. He didn't want to offend, but he had been sitting for a while already. He declined the offer with a wave of his hand. Ozpin shrugged indifferently, then took his seat as well, reclining as he swung his legs underneath.

"Now then," The headmaster began, "why don't we have this tale from the beginning? Mr. Morgan, I have questions for you as well, but I'm afraid the answers we seek most must come from Miss Rose." Arthur nodded with a grunt, and suddenly all eyes were on Summer once more. She looked away from Glynda and Ozpin at first, but she knew she owed them answers. The guilt she had felt when Raven confronted her came back, but she forced it down and faced them anyway.

"When I missing the first time, it wasn't by choice." She began, wringing her hands and remembering the fight that had nearly claimed her life. "Salem's men came for me, and it was a bloody battle that I nearly lost. I had to kill one of them, but the others were only wounded. The scorpion Faunus I know has a scar from that day. But I found some ruins there in the desert, and I decided to spend my final hours there." Summer shuddered at the memory, and Arthur had to remind himself that despite her size, she was far stronger than he was when it came to Aura and fighting people like that. If someone had brought her low, then they definitely would have made short work of him. His mouth set in a grim line, Arthur resolved to ask for more pointers once this meeting was done.

"I spent a night and most of the morning drifting in and out of consciousness. Thankfully, our first aid classes kicked in and I was able to stop the bleeding. What I did not know was that the ruins still held some kind of power." Summer continued. Her hand dropped to her abdomen at the mention of her wound. "When I was bleeding all over that stone dais, it activated for some reason. What had been a crumbling stone archway activated, and it revealed some kind of portal." Arthur palmed his face, realizing that she was planning on spilling ALL of the beans. Not that he had any real patriotism for protecting the path to America, but it would complicate things when it came to his origins.

"A portal? Something like that certainly isn't unheard of, but I thought the last of them had been destroyed." Ozpin ruminated, scratching his chin thoughtfully. Given Glynda's look of confusion that matched Arthur's, he decided to interrupt Summer's story and explain.

"Thousands of years ago, when the Brothers abandoned Remnant, there were some powerful attempts by one or two people to reach wherever the Gods had gone. In some cases, powerful relics known as Gates were constructed. To my knowledge, they were able to cross Remnant in an instant, and then they were turned toward the stars. Magnificent structures, capable of warping the very laws of the universe, but..." He sighed heavily, too heavily for it to be a simple history lesson. "to my knowledge, none who passed through the gates ever returned." Summer and Glynda nodded at the exposition, but Arthur's stare remained on Ozpin. He blinked slowly, masking whatever sorrow he had with a sip of his mug. The way he had said it, the way his shoulders had dropped, indicated a far more personal stake in the tale of Gates than simple reiterating what had happened before. But it had happened thousands of years ago...

_More questions for later._ Arthur groused mentally, and looked back down at Summer.

"Well, regardless of how it got there, it dumped me out into a forest. I was so shocked, I thought I had already died. But there were people there. A simple people, but they were willing to help. I couldn't understand them, but I knew they were trying to help. They were dressed in animal skins and lived in large tents, but they were able to nurse me back to health. I still remember one, he was a teenager at the time." Summer smiled at the memory. "I think he liked me a little too much. But he cared for me almost more than the medicine women did. His name was Rains Fall, I think."

A cold feeling settled into Arthur's gut. From what he knew of the region, the Wapiti nation had been in Lemoyne long before the white man had come. Their reservation in the north of Ambarino had been a recent development, within the past ten years. But Rains Fall had been nearly sixty when Arthur had last seen him! Either Summer was terrible as estimating someone's age, or there were two different men in Lemoyne named Rains Fall. Or something else was very, very wrong.

"I stayed with them for a few days, long enough to get my strength back. I explored the area a little, and I found a few towns. But the people there were not much more advanced. Steam engines and basic gunpowder cartridges were the extent of their technology. But there were no Grimm, either." Ozpin and Glynda's eyes widened, and the two shared a look. Glynda seemed far more surprised than Ozpin, but at this point that was a given.

"A world without Grimm." The very concept seemed to be alien to her, but all Ozpin did was smile. "Is the Gate still functioning? You came back, so surely it still works." At that, Summer winced.

"Yeah, about that. I didn't come back through the Gate. I was sent back. By Raven." Arthur, Glynda, and Ozpin all shared the surprise on that one. The two Beacon professors because they knew Raven's fatalistic philosophy, whereas Arthur just thought she was a heartless bitch that prioritized her own skin over everyone else. At their stunned silence, Summer continued.

"I was escorting some of Arthur's friends north to a safer place, and Raven used her Semblance to find me. I guess once she figured out I wasn't dead, she tried to portal to me. We talked." Summer shrugged vaguely. "I still don't agree with her leaving, but she showed me how we've been treating her this whole time. Because I had done the same thing she did. And then she sent me back. So, here I am. And Arthur has the Relic, so all's well that ends well." She finished with a sheepish grin.

Ozpin blinked slowly, his fingers steepled as he considered Summer's words. After a few moments, he cut his eyes to Glynda, and something passed between the two of them that eluded Arthur. When they were finished, Ozpin stood up and turned to Arthur.

"About the Relic... are you curious as to the story behind it? If you truly are from another place, then perhaps I could enlighten you on a few things." The gravity of his voice did not match his words; the way he'd said them was like he was uttering Arthur's epitaph. Glynda closed her eyes and sighed heavily, and Summer looked between the two of them with alarm.

In that moment, Arthur felt an epiphany coming on. This whole business with Ozpin and Summer and all their little Relics and schemes and hidden enemies loomed over him, like a massive bear that he couldn't kill. Just by coming here, he had been made privy to something clearly only a few in the world knew, and they were prepared to drag him the rest of the way into the shadows. And yet, hadn't he fought enough already? Barring the Grimm, every round Arthur had fired since coming to Remnant had been to bring the Relic to Ozpin. He could say that he was defending the White Fang, but even they had been a means to an end at the time. Now, though?

His friends, hell his family, were all safe now. Sienna was the most at risk, and she was the leader of a civil rights movement. The Marstons had been safely relocated, John had some solid work lined up. Hell, despite the mysteries that lingered over him, Sean McGuire was far more lively than the last time Arthur had seen him. Everything he had worked toward was done, save some progress with the White Fang. And here was another Dutch Van der Linde, ready to drag him headlong into another collection of tragedies and bloodshed in the pursuit of a goal he had no part of.

The golden Relic slipped from his satchel easily, seeing as how he had been gripping it this entire time. Given all the bumps and scrapes he'd been through, it felt almost irreverent to slam it down onto Ozpin's fancy desk. But Arthur did it anyway. The appearance of the Relic of Choice stole the words from Ozpin's mouth, and the Headmaster stared down at it.

"No. I don't." Arthur breathed, though not unkindly. "I fought tooth and nail to get this damned thing here, and left behind the people I cared about to do it." He turned and looked at Summer, placing a hand on her shoulder as she made to stand.

"Summer, you saved my life. I'll never forget that, and I brought the Relic here to settle that debt." He had enjoyed himself, helping another as he had. But it was time to step back. "But now I've done that. These folks you're dealin' with? I don't want no part of. I've spent the last thirty years of my life looking over my shoulder for one reason or another. I won't carry someone else's sins when I finally clawed my way out of Hell." With that, he stepped away.

The response was varied. Glynda scoffed, whether out of surprise or indignation he didn't care. He could hear a tongue lashing building up from the stern woman, but a hand on her elbow stopped her short. Ozpin shook his head slowly at her questioning look, then returned his gaze to Arthur.

"Is there no way that I could convince you? By Qrow's report, you put yourself in danger for the White Fang before." _Why not us? _The last part went unsaid. Arthur sighed heavily, and held up his hands.

"Yeah, I admit that there will probably be a bit more trouble, but those are my friends. With all due respect, the only person here that I even know is Summer, and I owed her a debt. I can't keep risking my neck for strangers. I'm sorry, but I gotta take care of my own now." He apologized sincerely. The elderly Headmaster considered his words, obviously not wanting to accept the denial right away. After a few moments, though, his mouth twisted in a wry grin.

"I understand your decision. I don't blame you, honestly. We can take care of it from here." Ozpin allowed. Summer jumped up from her chair, stepping back with Arthur and catching his elbow.

"You'll come to Patch before you leave, won't you? After all you've been through, I want you to meet my family. To see what you brought back to me." Her smile was genuine, if a bit sad. Arthur looked down for a moment, the looked back up at her with a grin.

"Sure." With that, he turned and nodded to Glynda and Ozpin. "Headmaster. Miss Goodwitch. It was a pleasure meeting ya." He tossed off a halfhearted wave, and then turned to the elevator. They others watched him enter it silently, though Ozpin couldn't deny the faint disappointment he felt when the doors closed.

Once Arthur was gone, Glynda spun on him. "Why did you let him go, sir? Even if he's not willing to help, he knows about the Relic!" Ozpin sighed and sipped from his mug once again. Hot chocolate certainly had a way of chasing away the smaller concerns. He was struggling to make the outlaw that just rejected his offer a small concern.

"He clearly has done enough already, Glynda. I do not begrudge a man for knowing when to step away. If anything, I envy him for the ability to do so." Ozpin sat down once again. Summer stood, her eyes going from the elevator, to Ozpin, then back again.

"We will allow Mr. Morgan to do as he pleases. Thankfully, his effort to stay out of things guarantees his discretion. He doesn't know anything dangerous other than what the Relic of Choice looks like." He gave Glynda a reassuring smile. "Something that is nothing new to our enemies."

Summer rubbed her arm sheepishly, keenly aware of how awkward the conversation had become. She didn't have anything more to add, however, but she hadn't been dismissed either. Ozpin merely stared ahead, his eyes unfocused as his mind went over the days events. And all around them, the cogs kept turning.

* * *

_"So you're on your way back, right?"_ Sienna was obviously trying not to sound too attached, but it wasn't working. Arthur smirked at the thought of her, surrounded by White Fang and asking about him. She was just too much sometimes. He leaned against the railing of the ferry, watching Vale drift away as he made his way toward Summer's island home of Patch. Ozpin had been kind enough to cover his fare, though he hoped the man didn't expect a favor in return.

"I gotta stop off at Summer's place, meet her family. She seemed insistent, and I'd like to have a meeting with someone that didn't involve all the cloak and dagger stuff." He shook his head. "Anyway, how's it going with the building?"

_"We've finished clearing the foundation, and Marcus has the superstructure marked out and measured. As far as I can tell, we'll have walls and a roof by the end of the week."_ There was something in her voice, and Arthur picked up on it immediately.

"But because you're a leader and not an architect, all you can do is sit around and watch, huh?" He heard her aggravated sigh and chuckled. "Ya know, it wouldn't have been too much of a stretch for you to come with me. Do some traveling while the White Fang gets on its feet."

_"Somehow, I feel like that would cause you more trouble than good. Even though word hasn't spread to the masses yet, traveling with the leader of the White Fang would get you all sorts of wrong attention. The kind of attention we're trying to eradicate. Besides, someone has to keep this bunch working. Even Marcus is starting to fatigue, and it's not from the difficult project."_

"And of course, the illustrious Sienna Khan must keep the peace. You know I wouldn't mind any attention I got with you around." Arthur stood and walked back toward his seat, a wooden bench by the ferry's exit when they reached the port. Its red paint was flaking off in places, and the seat groaned far more than it should have as it took his weight. "What kind of problems are they havin'?"

_"Problems I saw coming, though there wasn't much of a way to prepare for them."_ Sienna groused. He could see her blush slightly as she turned and paced the tent, the jungle spinning in the background as she wore a track into the dirt. She ignored his comment completely. _"Folding the Outlanders in was bound to have consequences, from both sides of the coin. The ex-bandits are starting to test the limits of my discipline, while the older White Fang members are unhappy to work with a bunch of killers. I'll admit that I'm not thrilled at the prospect either, but these were the best options I had for training more fighters. If we're going to move on the timetable I set when I took this position, I needed fighters and infiltrators immediately, and the Outlanders fit that bill and then some."_

Arthur's brow rose. Clearly, Sienna was worrying herself over her decision, even if she had every reason to move forward the way she did. She wasn't exactly second guessing herself, but she was feeling the burden of her decision. Unnecessarily, in his opinion.

"You did the best you could with what ya had. Sure, there will be some growin' pains, but I bet my horse you'll have them whipped into shape by the time I get back." He scratched his chin, pondering on how Dutch had kept their rowdy bunch in line for so long. "How are you handlin' the new boys, anyway?"

_"Like any bunch of misfits, they flock to the loudest one to bark."_ She said, almost derisively. Clearly Sienna had some choice words about how her late brother had conducted himself. _"None of them have directly defied my orders, but I find that many of them are ignoring or purposefully misinterpreting instructions from Marcus and my other lieutenants. Hannibal has done well in that regard, but there will be a few more examples made before we get past this."_ Even though it was frustrating, he could hear how driven she was to take these problems and run with them, the pride in her voice evident.

"You're just eatin' this up, ain't ya?" He teased, and she looked affronted for a moment. "Faced with all the problems in the world, but you finally feel like you're doing something, huh?" Sienna looked away, but her smirk grew into a full grin when she looked back at him.

_"I can't help but enjoy it some, Arthur. To finally have tangible progress right in front of me, after years of being told to wait, to slow down; it's like scratching an itch that has been bugging me for days. I respect Ghira, but I feel like he should have let me do this long ago." _Arthur laughed at that, humored by the normally reserved Sienna sounding like a girl that just rode a horse for the first time.

"Just remember, you're the big shot now. Every complaint you had about Ghira, people are gonna say about you." When she scowled, he finally relented with a tilt of his head. "But, it sounds like you're doin' a lot of good in a small amount of time. I can't wait to see what all you've done when you get back."

_"Hmm. Flattery will get you nowhere, mister Morgan. I... yes?" _Sienna looked away from her scroll, and Arthur could hear indistinct mumbling in the background. _"Really? Excellent, that's great news. Have Hannibal and Marcus meet me in the morning. We'll decide more then." _

"Everything okay?"

_"More than okay. Apparently, the temporary steward of the mansion we were watching earlier has set a schedule for the next few weeks and forwarded it to all of their employees. Our contacts among the staff have sent that itinerary to us."_ Her grin was razor sharp. _"I'm sorry Arthur, but I have to make some calls. I need to have Adam and Cain here before we can move forward. Be careful out there." _Arthur chuckled and shook his head.

"You too, Supreme Leader. I'll call you later." Sienna's smiling face winked out, and Arthur closed the scroll and tucked it back into his pocket. He leaned back on the bench and sighed heavily, glad to finally be rid of that damned Relic. And it seemed that the Lady Khan was in better spirits too, which was a win in his book. Now, all he had to do was meet this family of Summer's, then it was back to Mistral to handle some affairs for Sienna.

The ferry pulled into the dock thirty minutes later, giving Arthur just enough time to get sleepy but not enough to nap. He groggily stood up and stretched as the ferry's onboard PA system announced their arrival.

_"To all passengers. The last ferry to the mainland departs at nine o'clock. Thank you for choosing Hopper!" _The woman over the PA said cheerfully. The _Puddle Hopper_ ferry rumbled to a slow as the crew began bustling about, tying it off and preparing for a return trip to Vale. Ten, maybe fifteen other passengers made their way onto the dock, a small but study construction that was thirty feet wide at the most. Arthur walked across the small platform and onto Patch, looking around at the small island with a satisfied smirk. The ferry port wasn't much larger than the Van Horn trading post back home. Where there was a tavern, shady alleys, and a slew a drunkards in Van Horn, Patch was more civilized. Students from local schools, judging by their attire, roamed a few shops that faced the waterfront. A main street was paved with cobblestone, and had a small motel, a post office, and what looked like a bounty board of some kind.

Arthur wandered over to the holographic display in front of the post office, examining it with curiosity. Several faces and jobs were clearly displayed, with brief descriptions by their names like 'search and destroy' and 'escort'. _These must be Huntsmen and Huntresses_, Arthur reasoned as his eyes roamed the board. There were a few jobs that had no Huntsman ID next to them. Wondering what would happen, Arthur reached forward and waved his hand over one of the available bounties, a search and destroy. When he did, the bounty board flashed white for a moment, then played a beeping sound.

_"Unregistered Huntsman detected. Please sign up with the bounty office to take active bounties."_ The robotic voice advised. Arthur huffed, but he didn't really know what he had expected. The machines around here talked almost more than the people did, even on this island. He'd look into the bounty situation later, just in case he needed a little extra cash. If Ozpin still felt like he owed him, Arthur could cash in on that favor at least. Above the post office, a large clock chimed seven times.

"Alright, time for dinner." Arthur reminded himself, and turned toward the island's interior. Patch was more temperate than Menagerie, with more maple and pine trees than palm. It had more hills, too. Exiting the ferry port, he found himself walking uphill immediately, though it was a small enough grade that he didn't mind it. Houses and homesteads dotted the hillside, and the coordinates for Summer's home indicated that it was nearly on the center of the island. It took him about an hour to find the place, more because he wasn't in any hurry than out of any real confusion.

The cabin was nice, just the kind that Arthur would build if he ever got around to it. Two stories, with halved brown logs covering the walls. He could see a few windows above the front door, and some wooden flower beds full of sunflowers. Not far from the front door, a medium sized shed sat next to a wide clearing. There were large trees all around the house, but they were spaced far enough apart to not crowd the property. The surrounding forest was sparse, and any encroaching woods had been cleared away to provide long sight lines all around. Besides the hill approaching the house from the south, one could see practically the whole island.

Arthur whistled appreciatively as he looked around, then finally decided to make himself known. He walked up to the front door and knocked twice, loud enough to be heard without being too rude. Arthur stepped back, scratching at his growing beard as he did so. It had been a few days since his last trim, and he knew Sienna would give him hell if he showed up looking like an out-of-work lumber jack. A few moments later, the door opened to reveal Summer, her traveling clothes replaced by a white shirt, a cream colored skirt that came down past her knees, and a pair of tan shoes. Her ever present white hood was gone, replaced by a flour dusted apron. Arthur raised a brow at her dusted hands, and she also had a smudge of batter under her right eye. He couldn't tell if she had been baking food or flinging it.

"Arthur!" Summer grinned and gave him a one armed hug, trying not to cover his nicer clothes in the same flour she was covered in. "I thought you weren't coming for another hour?" He chuckled and patted her shoulder, ore to wipe off the confectionery dust than anything.

"I was gonna explore Patch a bit to kill some time, but I figured that'd be better suited for some rougher clothes." He shrugged. "Besides, this ain't the only time I'll be stopping by. How's it going in there, anyway? You look like you picked a fight with the baker's wife."

Summer looked down at her apron and her hands and blushed slightly, dusting herself off as best she could. Arthur held up a hand to his own eye, and she wiped her face at his cue to see the batter from earlier.

"Heh, sorry about that. Ruby always gets excited when I bake cookies, and she's still not over the shock of...well, you know. She's so happy that I'm back." Summer trailed off with a forlorn expression. "I am too. I can't believe I thought that staying away was a good idea."

"I can't either, seeing what it is you left behind. But I always figured you had your reasons, so I didn't pass any judgment on ya." He looked down at his clothes, then shrugged. They had been torn up and muddied before anyway. "Need any help since I'm early?"

"Oh, no! Arthur, I won't ask that of you. Just come in and have a seat. Tai and the girls are eager to meet you." Summer gushed, opening the door and leaving it for him to step in. Arthur did so, looking around with a smile.

The house was just as homey on the inside as it was outside. A medium sized fireplace burned quietly in front of a few chairs and a couch, and a set of stairs curled up around the wall to go up to the next floor. He could see two more rooms at least on the main floor, a dining room and kitchen to his right if the sounds coming from that direction were an indicator. The other door was closed, but likely the master bedroom if Arthur had been planning the house. The wood floors echoed the excited chatter and clinking of pots from the kitchen, but not in an obnoxious way.

"I'd take your coat, but..." Summer held up her hands helplessly. Arthur smirked and shucked the garment himself, waving her off as she retreated to the kitchen. The outlaw hung his coat up on the rack conveniently placed next to the door, and placed his hat on top of it. He unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled up his sleeves, then followed Summer into the room she had come out of.

Arthur had seen pictures of her family multiple times, but actually seeing Summer's two young daughters arguing over who got to lick the bowl was another thing entirely. The younger one – Ruby, if he remembered correctly – had shorter, black hair with red tips just like Summer did. She was wearing some strange black getup that was comprised of a corset and a skirt, with the frills of the skirt colored crimson. She had on black stockings and boots as well, with a silver rose pendant and a cross dangling from her corset. He even saw a few long bullets in a bandolier around her waist, though the thought of such a small girl using weapons was well beyond him.

"No fair, Yang! You got to lick the bowl last time!" The little girl cried out, all thirteen years evident in her voice as she beat her fist fruitlessly against her sister's back. Said sister stood over a head taller than her, and had golden blonde hair that ran almost to the middle of her back. She wore an orange t-shirt with a group of men on the front, some sort of band by what he could see, and a pair of tan cargo shorts than ran to her knees. Unlike Ruby, Yang was barefoot, though it mattered little as they scrapped for the bowl.

The two tussling sisters took their fight towards Arthur, who smirked and stepped aside enough for them to continue out into the living room. Summer glanced toward the door and watched them go, her hands full with a cookie sheet as it was going into the oven. As her daughters fought, she cursed quietly and closed the oven, shooting Arthur an apologetic look as she gave chase.

"Girls, that's enough! Not in front of our guest!" She reprimanded, and the two stopped their scuffle immediately, Ruby's hands wrapped in Yang's hair as the blonde held the bowl aloft. Thoroughly cowed, they both separated and sulked back into the kitchen, and Yang groaned in annoyance as Summer scooped the bowl up out of her hands as the teen passed. Ruby smirked and stuck her tongue out at her sister, content in claiming victory by default. Summer always slipped her cookie dough while Tai and Yang were training. Summer place the bowl back on the counter where it belonged, shaking her head at the antics of her daughters. Now that the fight was over, maybe she could actually introduce Arthur to her family like she had originally planned.

"Yang, Ruby, this is Arthur Morgan. He's the one that saved me a while back." Both girls looked up at him in awe, though Yang wasn't much shorter than he was. The blonde girl was clearly impressed, but Ruby had stars in her eyes that made Arthur a little uncomfortable. She had heard the tale from her mother, and her own imagination had run wild on how heroic the outlaw was.

"Wow! It's great to meet you!" Ruby crowed, starstruck even as she looked up at him. One moment later, and her attention was directed downwards, settling on the Peacemaker. "Oh, cool! A Dust revolver! Is it single or double action? How many chambers does it have? What's the biggest thing you've shot with it?" The little redhead's questions came out rapid fire, giving Arthur no opportunity to answer as he stammered through the praise. It wasn't that he was afraid to answer so much as he was unused to this kind of attention. The profuse thanks of a stranger he'd helped out every now and then, but never something this concentrated.

Before Ruby could badger him further about his pistol, Yang grabbed her by the collar, as much to calm her down as to keep the little weapon nut from tackling the poor man. She lifted Ruby up off of the ground easily, one hand on her hip as she did so. She was clearly far stronger than she looked.

"Thanks for saving our mom." The blonde grinned as she held her scrabbling sister aloft. "She told us about what you did. I can't tell you how glad we were to have Mom back." Once Ruby stopped struggling, she set the girl back down and patted her head, making the thirteen year old reaper fuss. Summer did the same for Yang, having enough time to wash her hands now that the cooking was almost done.

"Yang, why don't you go get your father? The steaks should be about done by now." Summer suggested. Yang nodded, and walked passed Arthur and out the door. The outlaw watched her go, and shook his head when she left.

"She's gonna be trouble in a few years." Summer laughed at his comment, taking out some plates and silverware from the cabinets and drawers.

"She already is. There are already a few boys at Signal with broken hearts, and some broken wrists as well." Summer turned and handed the utensils and plates to her younger daughter. "Ruby, how about you help Arthur set the table? Everything else is almost ready." Summer patted the young girl on the head, then turned and finished preparing food.

Arthur could see four or five bowls, with vegetables and pasta and mashed potatoes, all giving off a heavenly aroma. He could smell the steaks too, but that was coming from outside. Ruby approached him with the plates, and he took them from her with a small grin. Together, they set the table in short order. When they finished, Arthur heard the door open and close, and Yang was back with a plate of freshly grilled steaks, medium rare like they should be. Behind her, a blonde man in a brown vest and shorts followed with another plate of the same, and he noticed Arthur immediately. He had bared arms that bulged with muscles, and a tribal tattoo on his right shoulder. He moved at ease, but Arthur got the feeling that he could bring the house down if he really wanted to.

"Oh, you must be Mr. Morgan." The blonde man grinned, setting the steaks down and offering a hand. "I hear I have you to thank for Summer coming back." Arthur grasped his hand and shook it.

"Call me Arthur. And it was her decision, more than anything. I just saved her from an embarrassing situation." At his words, Summer shot him a look. Her husband laughed loudly at the byplay.

"Taiyang Xiao Long. You can call me Tai. I appreciate what you've done, really. Words can't express how much we missed her." He sent a wink Summer's way, and the woman blushed prettily.

"Dad, come on! The food's getting cold." Yang whined, her lilac eyes settling onto the steaks with a predatory glint. Ruby came over with a couple of bowls from the counter, and Summer had the rest behind her.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Tai rebuked himself. "Arthur, these are my daughters, Yang and Ruby. Girls, this is Arthur Morgan. He saved your mom's life." A little late for introductions, but Arthur nodded to the girls with a grin.

"Now, I don't remember Summer saying anything about daughters." Arthur joked. "Except that these two were all she could talk about. Ah, that reminds me." They all took a seat at the table, except for Summer as the woman began portioning out food for everyone. While she did, Arthur fished out the scroll he had been carrying for some time now. It had his contacts, photos, and maps on it, but it had always been Summer's scroll first. It pained him somewhat to set it down on the table, but he did so anyway.

"Oh my. I'd almost forgotten that you had that, Arthur. Thank you." Summer didn't take it right away, as busy as she was with the food. When she finally set the last bowl down, her hand cradled the device that she had loaned him so many months ago. It had gotten him through a lot of scrapes and helped Arthur navigate the unfamiliar world of Remnant, but it had also caused him some trouble. Images of his fight with Qrow flashed through Arthur's mind.

"I reckon I've got enough cash layin' around to pick one up for myself. I know that one has all your pictures and such." Arthur pushed his food around on his plate, already making plans to get another one in Vale before he headed back to Mistral.

"No, Arthur. You need a scroll for yourself, if nothing else so that we can keep in contact with you." She rolled her eyes. "Besides, apparently that is a really old model now. The newer scrolls are far more durable and have more options." Yang snickered at that, likely the one to have made such a comment when she heard about the device.

"Yeah, they have some now that can keep track of your Aura for you. No more having to gauge it on instinct alone. You should get a new one too, Mom." Either she genuinely wanted to contribute, or Yang was being a normal teenager and trying to create an excuse for a shopping trip. Summer gave her daughter a glance that said she knew what she was up to, but Tai spoke up as well.

"If Arthur's as unfamiliar with them as you said, he probably needs someone to go with him anyway. Unless he's got someone who's savvy with them, he could pay twice as much for an inferior model." Arthur made to disagree, but found himself biting his cheek instead. He'd had some time to fiddle with the one Summer had given him, but he'd be lying if he said he knew the specifics. His original plan was to have Sienna help him, but he needed a scroll just to find the White Fang hideout. He knew the general layout, but without a map of Mistral, he couldn't guarantee that he would find his way back.

"No need to worry about all that. I can manage just fine without one for a while." He lied, noticing Summer's frown. "Although, I do have a favor the next time I run into Ozpin." He explained his encounter with the bounty board down by the docks, and expressed his wish to take bounties from now on. Ruby and Yang ate their food, watching in silence as the adults talked about Huntsman and Huntress stuff.

"Hmm." Tai rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Normally, only certified Huntsmen can claim bounties. It's part of why so many people attend the Academy. But, I have heard of a few exceptions." He looked back toward Summer, and she nodded.

"In some remote areas outside of the Kingdoms, there are adventurers and fighters that take jobs the Huntsmen are too far away to handle in time. From my understanding of it, they just have to pass a practical exam. Obviously, they can't take on every job, but it would give you the ability to make some money." Her brow furrowed. "I'm sure Ozpin can make that happen, if anyone can."

"That would be mighty kind of him." Arthur nodded as he carved into his steak, enjoying the rich and heady flavor. Taiyang was a master of the grill and spice. "I'd like to settle that favor as soon as possible. I'm nearly forty, so I ain't going back to no school. He strikes me as the type to want friends in all places." He didn't want to disparage the Headmaster any more than he had to, since Arthur was unfamiliar with the man and there were students in the room. Judging by her expression, however, Summer agreed with him.

"That would be for the best, in my opinion. I'll bring it up with him tomorrow. I have... something to discuss with him as well." She hedged, looking away to focus on Ruby as the redhead dove into some potatoes with gusto.

Arthur wiped his mouth and sighed. "I appreciate the offer, but I really gotta get back to Mistral. Sienna's needin' me for a job, and I can't let those boys run off into trouble without somebody watching their back. I can grab a scroll on my own time, no need to trouble yerselves." He tried waving off the impromptu shopping trip they were planning, but Taiyang shook his head.

"Look, it's already almost eight. Even if you just ate and left, you'd have to sprint to make it back to the ferry on time. Stay here for the night, and Summer and I can go with you into Vale tomorrow to get you taken care of." The blonde man offered. "It's the least I can do for you after how you helped Summer." Arthur sat back in his chair, his thumb running over his knuckles as he considered the proposition. Tai was right about one thing, at least; he'd have to hop up and leave now if he was going to make it back to Vale. On top of that, red eye airships were rare and expensive since Grimm were harder to spot at night. Even if he made it back, he'd be spending Lien to find a room for the night.

"Well..." Arthur relented. "As long as it ain't no trouble." When he caved, Yang punched a fist into the air in celebration.

"Awesome! I just got some new dart guns, too. Maybe we can see who the real gunslinger is?" The blonde teen challenged, earning a chuckle from her parents. Arthur raised a brow at that, and leaned forward a little in response.

"Now, I'm not one to back down from a call out like that. What do ya say we finish dinner and put yer trigger where yer mouth is?"

The rest of meal passed quickly, and Yang practically jumped the whole staircase to get the toys she mentioned. They were little plastic things, with bright red darts that had suction cup tips. The toy was light and felt silly sitting in his holster, not to mention that it was bright pink. Three darts in Yang's face were well earned, much to the amusement of the rest of the family. She lost gracefully though, laughing as one of them stuck to her forehead.

As the night grew longer, Ruby was the first to show signs of fatigue. The little reaper yawned and stretched, curling into the couch as if she intended to sleep right there. Tai and Summer noticed immediately, though Yang was distracted by the video game on the television and Arthur was watching her. Tai leaned forward and tapped Yang on the shoulder while Summer went to collect the younger sister.

"Come on, Yang. Time for bed. You two have school in the morning anyway." The man chided gently, shrugging off Yang's complaints. Arthur stood up from the chair he'd been rooted in, moving to help in any way he could. Summer picked Ruby up off the couch with ease, gathering the thirteen year old girl up and slinging her over one shoulder. Yang waved goodnight to Arthur and followed them up the stairs.

Tai pulled some blankets out of a nearby closet and pulled out the couch, removing the cushions and revealing a metal frame that collapsed in on itself. With a little bit of pulling and flipping, Arthur had a bed stretched out in the living room just for him. It didn't beat the night sky overhead, but a test of the mattress revealed that it was surprisingly comfortable.

"We'll wake you up for breakfast before the girls go off to school. It's gotta be better than eating McRonald's out of a hotel room." Tai explained, heading for the stairs. "Holler if you need anything Arthur."

"I sure will. Goodnight." Arthur called to his back, then turned around to get settled onto the pullout. He unbuttoned his shirt at the collar and kicked off his boots, figuring that the rest would be fine for now. The outlaw pulled his gun belt off and hung it up with his coat and hat, content that being in a house full of Huntresses would be safe enough to disarm for a nap. He rolled his shoulders and tried to settle in and get comfortable, though his thoughts kept running around from the day's event. Meeting Summer's family had been a definite plus, though returning the Relic had been less so. Despite the fact that he'd done them all a favor, Arthur couldn't shake the feeling that he'd disappointed Ozpin. And if he was as powerful as everyone led Arthur to believe, then their discussion was far from over. Men with that kind of reach didn't keep it to themselves often.

Sleep did not come easily to Arthur, though not for lack of trying. The good food and long day had helped, but his troubles started when he was roused from slumber by a feminine giggle from upstairs. The outlaw groaned in exasperation, hoping it wasn't what he thought, only for his fears to be confirmed by the rhythmic creaking of bed springs.

_I saved her life alright, but I also reunited her with a husband she hasn't seen in years. How did I not see that comin'?_ Arthur berated himself. The couple upstairs showed no signs of stopping, and he wasn't about to play the unwilling tom. Arthur sat up out of bed and grabbed his boots, slipping them on groggily as he rubbed his eyes. He walked over to the door and reached into his satchel, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a box of matches. He stepped outside, seeking solace in nicotine and hoping that by the time he was done with a few cowboy killers, his hosts would be tuckered out.

The shattered moon hung in the sky, bathing the property in soft moonlight as he stepped out. Arthur struck a match on his boot and brought it to his face, puffing on the cigarette to get it going before throwing the match away. The outlaw took a long drag, relishing the smoke, before releasing it in a long breath. It really was peaceful out here, even despite his current predicament. Arthur stared up at the giant moon, wondering for a moment if Sienna was doing the same.

_I should have stayed a while longer,_ he rebuked himself. _I've been running all over the place, and I never stopped to make sure that she was alright before I did._ Granted, he knew that the Lady Khan could more than handle herself, and she was surrounded by hundreds of dedicated White Fang members. But somehow, he felt guilty about taking off like he had.

"You know, those things are bad for your health." A voice from the path that led to town interrupted his thoughts, and Arthur turned to face it. His eyes searched the dimly lit clearing, but he knew who it was by the voice alone.

"So's drinking like a fish, but I don't see you stopping." Arthur called out in return. A shadow moved near one of the trees at the edge of the property, and Qrow Branwen stepped out. He kept his sword over his shoulder, held in a lazy grip and pointed away from the outlaw. But Arthur had no illusions; Qrow was ready to split his belly, no matter how apathetic he seemed. If he had attacked in anger over Summer's scroll, what was going to be his reaction at finding Arthur standing outside of her house. _Hopefully, she told him the truth like a fucking adult. _Of course, that was a lot to ask Summer given the nature of her leaving and return.

"The first time I caught you, you were carrying a dead woman's scroll. Now here you are, at a house where that same woman's family lives. Excuse me if I don't find that reassuring." The Huntsman leveled his sword to the side, at the ready even as he pointed at Arthur. "I'm giving you one chance to make tracks before I get real impolite."

"Have you heard from Tai or the girls at all? The whole reason I came here tonight was to give the scroll back." Not that Qrow would believe him, or there was evidence to prove his claim that wasn't in bed or hanging up on the hat rack. Just like his gun and knife.

"Yeah, just doing your civic duty, I'm sure." Qrow sneered sarcastically. He looked around at his surroundings, then his crimson eyes settled onto Arthur with a steely glare. "You got me out of my bitch sister's camp, but that doesn't excuse you running around and using Summer's name like you have. You're gonna tell me where you got it and how, either now or after I beat it out of you." Even without his guns, Arthur bristled at the casual threat. He'd done the man a favor, at no small risk to himself, but Arthur knew good and well that anything he said to Qrow right now would be discarded as a lie. Even when the reason for his distrust was upstairs, too busy working on a third child to set the story straight.

"Is that right?" Arthur challenged, dragging on his cigarette to the butt. He wasn't sure if it was the lack of sleep, Qrow's attitude, or the fact that Summer could have saved him this hassle with a goddamn scroll call. But his willingness to back down and play peacemaker was just about gone. They'd cause all kinds of ruckus, and hopefully someone would come out and clear things up before property damage got started.

"Yeah, that's right. I've been itching to kick your ass since Mistral." Qrow settled into a more traditional stance, both hands on his sword and his weight forward. Arthur grinned and dropped his cigarette on the ground, grinding it out with his boot as he got ready for the fight.

"You're a daisy if you do."

* * *

Sienna could not help but run her hand through her hair at the sight before her. Two willing and able soldiers, ready to give their support for the White Fang. Both, she knew, were agile and cunning in their own right, if inexperienced and untested. But far be it from her to ignore the true Goliath in the room.

"You know your father will not approve." Blake Belladonna had the decency to blush, her ears lowering slightly as she realized what exactly she had done. Beside her, Illia Amitola turned a slight shade of red across her whole body, her Faunus heritage making it difficult for her to hide her shame at leaving Menagerie like they had. Another thing to work on, at any rate.

"It's like you said. We have to work harder and move against the right people, or the kind of change we deserve will never get here." Blake explained, resolve in her voice even as she gripped her weapon on her back. Gambol Shroud had been a gift from Adam, of all people, and he had been showing her how to use it in his spare time in Kuo Kuana. No doubt most assumed that the two going off into the woods together was a far more romantic nature, but who was Sienna to judge? Half the White Fang thought she was bedding Arthur at this point anyway.

"I can appreciate that, I just want you to be fully aware of what you are doing. Depending on the operation, your face and name could be announced all over Remnant. Did you at least leave a note?" Sienna knew full well that Blake had not told Ghira in person, otherwise she wouldn't be standing in the operations center of a half constructed White Fang base. The chieftain of Menagerie was kind and gentle with his daughter, but there were no illusions about how well he would take her leaving in the middle of the night. And Kali was a whole other matter entirely.

_This is going to be one hell of a headache,_ Sienna thought as she suppressed a grimace. Ghira's support right now was crucial, and his only child had flown the coop in the dark of night to join up with the resistance. A romantic concept, one born of heroes and fairy tales, but it did not make her next meeting with the gargantuan man any easier.

"I did. I explained why I wanted to do this. Hopefully they'll understand, in time." Blake's tone implied that she wasn't comfortable with the action, but felt that it had been necessary. As headstrong as the girl was, Sienna knew better than to start poking holes in her argument now. Better a Blake that was under her command than one that went out on her own. Sienna crossed her arms, one finger tapping an elbow as she considered the two teens before her.

"Amitola, what about you?" The chameleon jumped at Sienna's address. "What of your affairs? I know your mother would hate for this to be how you grew up." It was a low blow, and Sienna could see the hurt cross the girl's face, but she had to see how dedicated they were to this course. If she were willing to handle fighting the racists and the bigots that plagued the Faunus.

"I..." Illia bit her lip. "I'd love to protest and demonstrate like we did in the past, but that's what we always did. And it didn't force the SDC to fix their safety protocols. It didn't save my parents when that mine collapsed. Mom would have hated to see me doing this, but she's gone because of them. I can't let other Faunus die like they did because we're too afraid to step on the toes of those responsible." She ended her admission with conviction, and Sienna nodded in agreement.

Illia's parents had died in a mining accident in Atlas, a story told all too often thanks to the SDC's lax safety measures. It was made worse by the sleazy contracts they had signed, providing loopholes for the company to avoid paying damages to the families of those killed in preventable accidents. Before the chameleon girl had come to Menagerie, she had been forced to blend in with the human children in Atlas, even ridiculing other Faunus just to avoid attention herself. It was not something she was proud of, and the girl stood before Sienna ready to do the right thing.

The child of victims to Atlas' corruption, and the closest thing that the White Fang had to a princess. Both had every right to come to her and volunteer their service, but Sienna didn't make the decision lightly. Her changes to the White Fang all but guaranteed that these two would be placed in danger. If anything happened to Blake...

There wasn't a place on Remnant that she could hide from Ghira Belladonna. Not that she would.

"Alright." Sienna relented, and the two girls smiled at each other. "I'll find something for you to do until Adam gets here. He oversees the new recruits as far as training goes. Until we get you up to speed, see Marcus or Hannibal for tasks." At the mention of Adam Taurus, Blake brightened even more.

"Adam's coming?" Sienna noticed her hopeful expression, and to her bemusement Illia did too. The chameleon girl frowned a little at Blake's excitement, but let it go in favor of their new status as members of the White Fang. _Sorry, Amitola._ Sienna thought. _Adam has that girl wrapped around his finger._

"He is. There's to be a mission soon, one you will _not_ be going on," Both girls deflated at her stern tone. "I can only afford to send those with experience and discretion, something you both lack at this point. Run a few errands, spar with some of the others, and get a feel for what we have going here. Once we're finished here with the base, I can send you two on some reconnaissance missions, something to take advantage of how you blend in." The two nodded dutifully.

"There is one more thing we need to cover." Sienna placed her hands on her hips as she began to pace, falling into lecture mode without even realizing it. "I've known you both for some time now, and I have no problem being familiar when it is just us. But I am the Supreme Leader of the White Fang now. When we are among the others, even Marcus and those you are friends with, I am Leader. You can call me by my name when we're together like this, but I will not give even the appearance of favoritism. To do so would lead to a breakdown in discipline, something we hardly need with our new members. Is that clear?" Her voice took on an edge of authority, and it made both young Faunus stand up straighter.

"Yes ma'am!" They chorused, and Sienna allowed a small smile to cross her face.

"Very well, enough of that. Go find Marcus and offer to help. I'll see you two at breakfast tomorrow." Blake and Illia nodded, then walked out of the room, unable to contain the relieved smiles on their faces. Did they really think that she would turn down their help? Sienna scoffed at the notion. Even if Ghira had come and dumped Kali at her feet, Sienna would have found something for her to contribute to. But now, she had to run damage control to keep the chieftain from tearing her ears off.

_The things I do for the White Fang._ Sienna thought to herself, typing out a message to Ghira while the debacle was still fresh on her mind. He would call in the morning no doubt, but she could reduce his ire now by letting him know that his daughter had arrived safely.

* * *

**A/N:** I know I'm making Summer look like a totally irresponsible person, but a lot of the strife she's caused in this chapter is a result of poor timing as much as her own misguided attempt to protect her family. And now Qrow and Arthur will finally get to settle their fight from Mistral. Or will they? Hope everyone liked the Tombstone reference. I recently watched it again, and I have neglected so many similarities between Doc Holliday and Arthur. Obviously our favorite gunslinger isn't as flippant or wordy as Doc, but a man cursed by TB slinging guns like a devil is one hell of a story element.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

* * *

The two men stared each other down, each waiting for the other to make the first move. A slight breeze wafted over the clearing, rustling the trees and sending waves through the grass. Qrow kept his eyes trained on Arthur, searching for any hint on how he was going to strike first. He could already see that the outlaw's gun belt was nowhere to be found, which gave him an advantage. Arthur was more focused on Qrow's weapon, knowing that it would decide the victor in their scuffle. He couldn't afford to let the man start swinging.

Slowly and deliberately, Arthur paced to the right, straying away from Summer's house while keeping the same distance from Qrow. The Huntsman let him, just as interested in preventing damage as he was causing it; preferably to Arthur's face. They circled for a moment, steadily moving away from the house. As Arthur reached the point to where house was behind Qrow, he stepped onto a small stick, snapping it beneath his boot.

The sudden crack filled the clearing, and they both took it as a starting pistol. Qrow swept in low, swinging Harbinger toward Arthur's feet. The outlaw stepped back, twisting to the side to avoid Qrow's follow up kick. He drove his elbow down into the man's shoulder, earning a grunt and sending Qrow past him off balance. Arthur capitalized and jumped onto Qrow's back, locking his arms together and shifting his weight to throw him down to the ground. Qrow staggered, planting his feet, and threw his head back with a growl, nearly breaking Arthur's nose. The outlaw flinched as his eyes watered, blinking rapidly as he recovered. The momentary stun was enough for the Huntsman to break free, throwing Arthur's arms off of his and swinging sideways. The thicker edge of the blade caught Arthur in the arm, and the outlaw cursed and backed off to get some distance.

Qrow spun and jumped after him, swinging downward and then across Arthur's knees when he sidestepped. Arthur's Aura flared up to protect him, but it only dulled the pain as he gritted his teeth. The outlaw kicked out at Qrow's knee, missing the follow up punch by a hair's breadth and throwing two more. The second one caught Qrow square in the chin, and he ducked the third to give Arthur one in return. The cowboy flinched as the strong blow landed, backing up a bit from the strike, and it opened him up for a solid kick straight in the gut that sent the air from his lungs and his body rolling through the grass. Arthur hacked and coughed as he struggled back up to his feet, and just barely shied away from a strike that would have cost him his arm. Qrow came in viciously, giving Arthur no room to maneuver as he swung Harbinger with speed and ferocity. Arthur had to stay mobile to avoid the blows, deflecting the flat of the blade with his hands wherever he could as he retreated quickly. Qrow pressed the advantage, swinging and striking with relentless fervor to keep Arthur on the back foot.

"Alright, enough of this!" Arthur snarled to himself, and stepped in instead of back. The sweeping slash that Qrow had chambered came into him, but Arthur was too close for it to connect. His arm wrapped around Qrow's and tightened, twisting the man's elbow at an awkward angle and forcing him to release Harbinger. Arthur turned his body into Qrow's and forced him back with his shoulder, distancing the Huntsman from his weapon and throwing in a backhand to the face for good measure. Qrow growled when his hand left the grip, and he came right back with a haymaker that Arthur blocked. The gunslinger blocked two more and reached forward to grab Qrow's shirt, dragging him in for a vicious headbutt and giving the drunk two body shots while he was dazed. Qrow backed off and tried to circle around to collect his weapon, but Arthur kept between the two of them, his fists raised.

"Let's see how well you do without that over sized razor." He snarled, spitting into the dirt. Qrow's only reply was to smirk. The two closed in with bouncing steps, fists up. Qrow probed Arthur's defenses with a few jabs, both of which Arthur blocked. Confident that he had the range advantage, Qrow shook his arms out with a huff and offered a 'come hither' gesture. Arthur obliged with a straight punch to the chest that Qrow nimbly sidestepped, letting the gunslinger swing as he dodged the blows. His feet began kicking up dirt and grass as he moved, proving a slippery target that was frustrating to chase. Arthur knew he was being baited, but he had to press the advantage before Qrow collected his sword.

Arthur feinted to the right and dashed forward, grabbing hold of the one thing Qrow couldn't defend; his cloak. The rogue let out a surprised yell as Arthur turned and yanked, pulling him to one side and off balance. He kicked Qrow's leg out from under him and balled the cloak in his hands, sending Qrow to the ground with two hundred pounds of pissed off cowboy on top of him. Qrow landed on his side, immediately rolling to his back to keep Arthur from turning his head into paste with no way to retaliate. He got one arm free to block, but the first thing to hit his face wasn't a fist, but rather his only cloak. Blinded, Qrow had no way of predicting the raining fists as Arthur threw punch after punch, changing direction and timing to keep the Huntsman guessing. Each hit that landed got a grunt of pain, and Qrow waved his arm wildly before he remembered his training. He bucked his hips, unseating Arthur from his base, and was able to free his other arm and drag the cloth from his face, though he had to eat two more punches to do it. Once both arms were free and his sight was clear, Qrow jerked his head to one side to dodge one of Arthur's punches, then trapped the appendage under his arm. Arthur tugged, trying to get his arm free, and was pulled off balance and tossed to the side as Qrow rolled. The motion gave Arthur a split second of leverage to free himself, and he kicked away from Qrow and rolled to his feet as quickly as he could, the other man doing the same. Arthur was panting slightly, winded already by the constant strain that came with ground fighting. Qrow looked to be in better shape, though the sweat that beaded his brow showed that he was feeling the fatigue as well. Both men hazarded a look around, and Arthur cursed; Harbinger was six feet away, equal distance from both of them.

Qrow took off, diving for his sword even as Arthur moved to intercept. The Huntsman reached the blade first, but he couldn't pick it up before Arthur slammed into his back, charging him into the side of the house with a crack. Where fists and boots had been the weapons before, now it was all elbows and knees. Arthur kept his weight into Qrow to keep him from coming off the wall, but it left him open for an elbow to his eye and cheek. He took the strikes with a growl, shifting his weight and bringing his knee up into Qrow's gut. He did it once more, then feinted and pulled the man into a headlock when he reacted. From the side, all Arthur had to do was maintain his grip and the choke would succeed. Qrow threw a few more elbows into his side, floundering as he realized the danger he was in. When those proved ineffective, the man drove his foot into Arthur's instep, causing Arthur to cry in pain and move his leg further away. When he did, Arthur watched one of Qrow's hands ball into a fist, and the next thing he knew he was seeing stars.

"Ack!" Arthur gasped out in pain and felt his grip loosen, pitching forward on his own accord to cup his groin as Qrow staggered away, massaging his neck with a satisfied smile.

"Ah, nothing beats the nutcracker. Always gotta protect the jewels." He joked, leisurely walking over to scoop up Harbinger. Arthur wheezed as the waves of pain rolled over him, but he still managed to take some kind of stance even so. It was a dirty move, but one he would have done in the same situation. The two men stared each other down once more, raring to go for another bout, and they charged forward the same time.

"QROW BRANWEN!" A furious voice cried out, stopping both men in their tracks as they looked at the front door. There, standing in all of her glory, was Summer Rose in a white nightgown and black pajama pants. A hastily thrown on and poorly adjusted nightgown, seeing as how one strap was falling down her shoulder. But the state of her clothes had nothing to do with the look of utter shock that crossed Qrow's face. He let Harbinger fall with such disregard that the segmented blade dug into the dirt, propping itself up with no help from his limp fingers. He was completely and utterly starstruck at seeing his friend alive, regardless of how pissed she looked. Arthur... was not.

CRACK! A fist drove into Qrow's cheek and brought him out of his trance, sending him to one knee. He coughed and groaned, spitting a glob of blood from where he bit his tongue. Arthur shook out his wrist, giving Qrow a venomous look as he turned away from him.

"That was for the nut shot, asshole." He growled, then nodded to Summer. "Sorry bout the noise, Summer. I tried explaining it to him the first time." The pajama clad woman turned her scathing glare onto him for a moment, then returned it to Qrow when the outlaw held up his hands in surrender.

"Tai told you to meet us in Vale tomorrow! That does not mean come to the house in the middle of the night and attack my guest, bird brain!" Wow, even for one o'clock in the morning, that was harsh for her. Summer stomped over to where Qrow was knelt, grabbing him by the collar and hauling him up to face level, even as the man continued to stare at her in shock. "Do you have any idea what you interrupted? I've been away from my family and _my husband_ for nearly eight years, you inconsiderate oaf! I have needs, and having you damage my house in the middle of those needs is not what I need right now!" As she screamed her ire into his face, Summer began to shake Qrow around, causing his head to flop this way and that. Finally snapped from his reverie, Qrow brought his hands up and pried Summer's hands from his collar, standing to his full height even though the dumbfounded look never left his face.

"Summer? You're alive?" He cut his eyes to Arthur, who was gingerly walking off his discomfort from their scrap earlier. "You knew about this?" At that, Arthur threw up his arms and glared at him.

"Like hell you were going to listen to me, anyway. After that fight in Mistral, I could have told you anything and you'd call me a liar. And that's with me saving your ass!" He jabbed an accusing finger at Qrow. "She asked me to keep it quiet so them that ain't so fond of her wouldn't come here to finish the job, so don't take it out on me because you're out of the loop." With his piece said, Arthur stalked back inside, hoping to find an ice pack at least. Summer watched him slam the door closed, then turned and looked back at Qrow. He had the good grace to look sheepish, but there was some irritation in his eye as well.

"Why the hell couldn't anyone tell me you were back? All Tai said was that he had a surprise for me. You know as well as I do that surprises aren't my favorite thing." Summer sighed in exasperation, rolling her eyes as she massaged her brow.

"We couldn't tell you over the scroll because I'm still trying to keep it a secret. And you were on the coast, for crying out loud. Tai told you to meet us in Vale, so that means you had time to take a train, or at least an airship. There was no need to be so paranoid." She reprimanded. Qrow cocked a brow and reached behind his back, pulling out his flask and unscrewing it.

"Sorry." He took a swig and grimaced, feeling the sting as the alcohol washed over his bitten tongue. "Comes with the territory when your friend goes and dies on you." Any other irritation Summer might have had at that died, and her shoulders slumped. He took one more drink and stowed the flask, stepping forward and pulling his team leader into a hug. She blinked, surprised that he hadn't at the very least cussed her up one wall of the cabin and down the other.

"Still, though. Out of all the times I've been lied to, you being dead is a damn sight better than the truth." He looked down at her as he stepped back. "You know you owe me an explanation, though." And he was right; Qrow deserved the lie as much as the rest as her family did, and she was still trying to smooth things over. They weren't back to normal, not by a long shot, but it was still something worth doing. Offering him a wry smile, she nodded toward the house.

"Might as well come in, I guess. We already gave the couch to Arthur, though. You get the chair." Qrow sighed heavily, rolling his eyes and shrugging.

"Just my luck."

* * *

"Again!" The clash of metal on metal rang out, nearly comparable to the waterfall in the back ground. Gambol Shroud swung out, catching Marcus' claymore and diverting it to the side. The large Faunus let the blade fall and reached out, grasping a handful of hair and hauling to the side. Blake cried out in a mixture of pain and surprise as he interrupted her spinning counterattack, only for her form to distort and fade away. Sensing an attack coming from behind, he brought the massive sword up behind his back just in time for Shroud to ring off of it. His claymore swung in a wide arc, as much to force her back as it was to use its momentum to turn and face her. Blake rushed in once more, spinning both of her weapons in a deadly dance. Because of the size of his weapon, Marcus was forced to fend her off with his Aura covered arm as often as his weapon, draining it even as she picked up her assault. He retreated slowly, taking one step at a time as his eyes tracked her movements.

His opening came when Blake spun, bringing both weapons around in a horizontal slash that his sword was too low to block. Marcus' eyes glinted as he kicked his blade upward, the massive hunk of steel sending bother of her weapons skyward. Blake's eyes widened as the return swing came down on her. She flashed to the side, her clone taking the hit, and was surprised again when a meaty hand wrapped around her throat. The cat Faunus gasped in surprise, thankful that the larger man wasn't actively trying to strangle her. She brought the handles of both weapons down on his wrist, but he was too stout for it to have an effect. The world spun around her as he reared back, then slammed her down into the ground with enough force to break the top layer of dirt.

Blake's eyes bulged as her breath rushed from her lungs, coughing hard and trying to get her bearings as he readied his weapon once more. By the time she knew what was happening, all she could do was cross her blades in front of her as the massive sword came down.

"Enough!" The command was barked, and Marcus' massive blade stilled in an instant. Blake panted heavily, her eyes fixed on the edge of the blade that was just above her crossed swords. She knew full well that the hasty defense wouldn't have been enough to stop a blow of that strength and weight. On the edge of the training area, Adam clapped his hands a few times, signaling that the bout was over.

"Better than last time. You're getting more creative with your swings, but your escapes are still predictable." The red headed man lectured, entering the ring with Illia at his side. She wore a black and gray stealth suit, one that stopped at her thighs and her shoulders with a golden zipper and black boots. Her Dust-filled whip, Lightning Lash, was holstered safely on her hip. Blake slowly set her weapons down, looking up at Marcus as the big man brought his claymore up to his back, his free hand coming down to offer her up. She took it, and was lifted back onto her feet as if she weighed no more than a piece of paper.

"You're too aggressive for fighting someone like me." Marcus added. "A big opponent is usually going to be slow, and closing the distance does you more harm than good. Gambol has a ribbon and a pistol on it, so consider your ranged options before you try to close in. I would have tired myself out chasing you, especially with that Semblance of yours." Blake nodded, thankful for the advice even as she fought down the shame of losing. Not that she should have expected victory in the first place; Marcus was a veteran from the Faunus Rights Revolution, and had fought people twice her skill and lived to tell about it.

"I know. I just don't want to run away from everything. It doesn't feel like I can do as much from a distance." Marcus chuckled at her explanation and patted her on the head, ruffling the bow that she wore. At first, Adam had questioned it, but the small black ribbon worked wonders for helping her blend in with humans. Considering she was being trained as an infiltrator with Illia, it was a change that eventually had his blessing.

"Don't try to bring politics into a fight, girl. Fighting on the battlefield doesn't have to mirror how you fight in the war. Sometimes, you gotta step back before you get crushed." He pulled the chain from his belt and let it drop, then hooked the bottom of the claymore into it. A hooked piece of metal on his back took the hilt, allowing him to free his hands as the blade sat diagonally across his back. When he turned around to walk toward Adam, Blake caught the word 'Lancer' inscribed on the blade.

"You're improving quickly. At this rate, I'll be recommending you two for duty by the end of the week." Blake's cheeks colored at Adam's praise, and Illia looked away in embarrassment as well. "Your father's training has done you both some good." The training Adam mentioned had been provided by Ghira, who would die a thousand deaths before he would let his darling daughter leave the walls of Kuo Kuana without being able to defend herself. The constant presence of Grimm coupled with the racist views of humans had prompted him to impart some training on her early in life, though not to the level of a Huntress. When Illia had been relocated to Menagerie, her proximity with Blake had allowed her to get in on the training as well.

"Thanks, Adam. It would be nice to actually win a fight for once, though." She added with a wry smile. Adam returned it, but shook his head at her point.

"Failure teaches far more than success, Blake. I got tossed around quite a bit before I learned how to fight back." He let the end of Wilt's hilt rest on his palm, thinking back to all the demonstrations gone wrong. And how the SDC had branded him for his rebellion...

"Don't look now, but we've got an audience." Marcus' gravelly voice snapped Adam from his thoughts, and he turned and looked back toward the base. Walking up the short trail toward the waterfall, Romulus and Remus Lupin were making their leisurely way toward the four of them. At the sight of them, Adam's mouth set into a thin line, but he turned away before Blake could see it.

"Marcus, have them spar a bit more before we take a break. Some repetition will do them both some good." He declared without looking back. Marcus nodded, then stepped between the two teens and Adam's retreating back. It was as much to get their attention on him as it was to block whatever meeting the Lupin brothers had in mind.

As he walked, Adam could hear Marcus imparting more words of wisdom on Blake and Illia, but his mind was conflicted. Ever since Sienna had taken power, the Lupin brothers' own influence had waned. They were merchants, and had made their way in the world by rubbing elbows with those that the White Fang opposed. However, though their methods put them in the graces of snakes like the SDC, it also granted resources and influence around Remnant that were useful to the White Fang. And in all reality that is what they were; useful. Not comrades or freedom fighters, but merchants that were of use to the cause. But even a useful wretch was still a wretch.

When they were close enough to speak without shouting, Remus stepped to the right, away from his brother.

"Good afternoon, Adam. A nice day for some training." He offered pleasantly. An empty statement, meant only to open the conversation. One he had no interest in entertaining.

"I would prefer rain, myself." Adam replied, crossing his arms. "The harder the training, the easier the living. Or so my father once said." Remus smiled shallowly at the wisdom, clearly irked by his disagreement but only willing to show teeth. His brother cleared his throat and ignored the slight.

"We were wondering if you would be willing to sit down and have a chat with us? There are some things needed to be discussed, about the future of the White Fang." Of course they would ask that. Adam cast another glance behind him, glad that Marcus had Blake and Illia's full attention. If either of them overheard the conversation, the Lupin brothers would be flayed alive by sundown. Not that Adam planned on being kind, but they had approached him for a reason.

Sienna had been Supreme Leader a scant few weeks, and they were already approaching him to discuss succession. They believed him a young fool, one best suited at pointed toward the nearest target and stepping back. They were not the first to make the assumption, nor would they be the last. But he could not remove this tumor within the White Fang without at least hearing them out.

"What did you have in mind?" He kept his voice civil, if barely, and both men lightened at his words.

"Nothing at the moment, seeing as how you are, ah, _busy_ at the moment." Remus gestured dismissively toward the sparring trio behind him. "But we'd like to invite you to come speak tonight, near the second entrance to the facility. Just to share some insights." Romulus nodded eagerly as well, his grin hoping to be genial and inviting. Adam would have called it predatory if either of them actually had any spine. He tucked his chin, mulling it over some, before finally nodding. His answer given, Adam turned and stalked back toward his trainees, not able to keep up the facade a moment longer. The brothers turned to go as well, though Remus couldn't resist one last parting comment.

"We can't wait to see what you can do for the cause, brother." A sick feeling crept into his gut, bile rising in his throat at even the notion of calling the two Lupins 'brother'. They knew nothing of fraternity. Were the White Fang to disband in the morning, Romulus and Remus would wash their hands and head to Atlas, eager to test their Lien and mettle in the stock exchange. Their loyalty was to themselves, and it was made evident by their machinations today.

But... he wouldn't involve Sienna until he had some hard proof. Any action he took now would be ineffective, and merely silence them in his presence. If they wished to draw him over to their side in hopes of usurping Sienna, then Adam would give them enough rope to hang themselves with.

* * *

Sean waved goodbye to Arthur as the older man made his way to the airport. He had an appointment in Mistral, from what he told, and Sean could see that it was important. Arthur hadn't even made time to visit the Marstons; as soon as he'd left the store with his new scroll, Arthur Morgan had packed his things and left. It had only been by a stroke of luck that he'd run into the man. Well, Arthur and the family he had stayed with.

They were a lovely family, too. Doting wife, caring husband, with the ever watchful brother in the background. It was almost storybook, and Arthur had given him a brief summary on how they'd met. Summer Rose was quite the looker, but Sean had not survived run ins with Huntsmen by flirting with their wives. Even to his comparable inexperience, he could tell that Taiyang would wipe the floor with him.

And so, with Junior in control of the slums and Arthur crossing the continent yet again, Sean found himself with nothing to door. Normally, he'd find the nearest watering hole to test his luck with women and his liver with drink, but somehow the prospect wasn't as appealing as he hoped. A year ago, he and Arthur and John would have been right terrors, crawling across half of Vale with a bottle in every hand and a tune on their lips. But ever since his little heart to heart with Marston in Vacuo, the man had acted like a spooked deer in Sean's presence. Even Arthur gave him some long looks, though the man was never keen to explain when Sean questioned him. The camaraderie from their time under Dutch was still there, but it felt buried and faded.

"Ah, who needs 'em?" Sean proclaimed loudly, earning a few concerned looks as he passed pedestrians on Vale's busy sidewalks. Fridays were busy enough as it was, but with Academy terms coming to a close, Signal and Beacon were letting out of classes a little early, so students were flooding Vale to escape the tedium of schooling. Sean had managed to pick a few pockets, but ultimately he'd decided to make himself scarce once Huntsmen and Huntresses in training started flooding the shops. The last thing Junior needed was to bail him out of a brawl because he fingers weren't as light as he thought.

Sean passed another corner and turned onto Baker Street, a lovely little avenue with a coffee shop, a bakery, and a few other little storefronts. It was close enough to the main drag to still be popular, but small enough to only allow foot traffic. It also had the benefit of sporting several alleys that went unexplored, except perhaps by amorous couples seeking privacy. It mattered not to Sean, as all he had to do was step out of notice.

Once he was in the alley, he prepared to use his Semblance to get to the Club, but was stopped when his scroll started ringing. Cocking a brow, Sean looked around to see if he would have any eavesdroppers, then pulled out his scroll. No number was displayed, but the name _Doctor _sat underneath a gray square where the caller's portrait would normally be. Sean pressed answer, then brought the device to his ear.

"Afternoon, doc. A little early for your call, innit? Figured I had another week before your payment." The doctor responsible for his cybernetics had agreed to take the money for his surgery in installments, though the man did include a hefty interest rate. Twelve hundred Lien a month, with a fifteen percent interest rate, kept Sean active and on the hunt for more jobs. Junior's work was lucrative, if somewhat illegal, so by Sean's math he'd be paying for at least another year.

"_Good afternoon, mister McGuire. I was actually calling to see if you would meet with me."_ The doctor said in his posh accent. _"I have a small update for your eye, and I was hoping you could help me with something. I'd be willing to waive this month's payment in return."_ Interested, Sean hummed in curiosity.

"Alright then, I'm listening. Same place we always meet?" There was an abandoned office building that the doctor used as a part time clinic for his prosthetics near the Club, and was where Sean had woken up after the events in Rhodes.

_"If you don't mind. I'll meet you there shortly, I just have to finish some business with another associate."_ The doctor replied, and Sean nodded even though the camera was disabled.

"As you say, doc. I'll be there in two shakes." With that, Sean hung up his scroll and pocketed it. He looked around once more for any witnesses, then thumbed his hat with a grin. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes again, he was standing on the rooftop of a building two streets over from the alley. That's what he called his Semblance: Blinking.

Sean had discovered his Semblance after a robbery gone wrong, bolting down a dead end alleyway with some of Vale's finest in hot pursuit. When he'd discovered that the alley ended at a brick wall, all he could think of was how badly he wanted to be up on the roof. When he turned to face the police, Sean found himself standing exactly where he had hoped to. The surprise had almost caused him to fall from the height. With further experimentation, Sean found that as long as he wasn't observed, he could cross the entire city of Vale in roughly five minutes. Even when someone was watching him, he could Blink away, though it took more effort.

Sean pondered why being seen cost him so much more Aura as he dropped from the roof, Blinking in mid fall without breaking stride to walk leisurely down the another sidewalk that was much closer to the Club. He passed a small group of teenagers that were milling about, turned another corner, and then Blinked again. When he opened his eyes this time, he was standing in front of the Doctor's office. An old office building shut down by its former owners, the Doctor operated out of the center of the building and kept the front just as dilapidated as anyone would expect. His actual office was cleaned and maintained, but anyone giving the building a cursory glance would see only entropy. Figuring that he would rather wait inside than out, Sean pushed the door open and stepped in, shutting it behind him.

The Doctor had never actually given his name, but that didn't bother Sean much. He'd come to see how useful anonymity was, and he could understand why a doctor this capable would want to keep his identity secret. Still, Sean knew that he had little to no leverage on the man, and did everything he could to keep things civil. And it wasn't just to stay in the Doctor's good graces. Whenever Sean's eye needed updating, the process knocked him out cold. He was defenseless for as long as the man was rooting around in his head; not a position he wanted for someone looking to be rid of him.

"Doc, ya here?" Sean called out, stepping into the building's foyer. An abandoned office building like this came with a front desk and waiting room, dusty and bereft of whatever furniture hadn't been bolted down. He heard no response, and none of the sensors in his eye detected any signs of movement. Figuring that he had time to spare, Sean strolled deeper into the office, whistling a merry tune as he went. These little check ups with the doctor were starting to become routine, nearly clockwork unless something came up with Junior and Sean had to reschedule. Every six weeks or so, the Doctor would drop by or send a representative, Sean would plug in, and they were done in thirty minutes.

Behind the foyer, a staircase covered in discarded papers and refuse descended down into a basement. The lights weren't powered, but Sean could see well enough with his enhanced vision. The basement continued opposite of the staircase, and as he walked down the musty corridor Sean could hear voices further in. That in itself was strange, since the Doctor only ever came alone or sent an assistant, never both. But, he was a busy man. Maybe he was on a call?

As the corridor approached the single room in the building that still saw use, signs of upkeep began to appear. An absence of dust halfway from the next door, the door itself in perfect condition compared to its surroundings, and the faint hum of power on the other side. Normally it would go unnoticed, but with the rest of the building cold and dead, one could faintly hear the gentle thrum of electricity.

Sean knocked once he reached the door, and the voices on the other side paused for a moment. Now that he was closer, the Irishman could definitely recognize the Doctor's posh accent, though the words he spoke were still too muffled to understand. After a moment a few more hushed words, the Doctor cleared his throat.

"Come in, Sean." The redheaded cyborg did as asked, swinging the door open and closing it quickly to keep the hall's dust where it belonged. As he had suspected, no one was in the room but the Doctor, and he had his scroll in hand. The Doctor was a man of middling age, with short black hair that was gray on the sides. A thick mustache hid his mouth from view, and his green eyes examined everything with analytical intelligence. He wore a gray overcoat with yellow lining and a maroon undercoat with yellow buttons, and a yellow dress shirt could be seen underneath that. A matching pair of gray pants and shoes covered his legs and feet, though his fingerless maroon gloves were absent. "I trust you weren't followed?"

"Kinda hard to follow me, Doc. I don't exactly leave a trail, y'know." Sean spread his arms out in front of him. "But, I made sure no one saw me before I poked my way in." The Doctor nodded in satisfaction and gestured behind him. The white tile and tan walls were scrubbed and sanitized, and in the center of the room was a segmented metal chair with leather padding. There was a bowl-like indention in the head of the chair, which allowed the Doctor access to Sean's cybernetics without causing undue harm. Beyond that, a few cabinets with supplies and a curtain to hide the chair were all else in the room.

Sean removed his hat and coat and set them on the counter near the door, then took his place in the chair. Above him, what had once been the mirror arm for a dentist now boasted a wide range of automated tools, ranging from hypodermic needles to miniature screwdrivers to magnetic disks. The first time Sean had come for his update, the armature above the chair had nearly caused him to run out of the room. Now though, he knew the function of each individual tool, and it was much less frightening.

"What's on the list for today, Doc? Standard update?" Sean asked genially, leaning his head back into the seat like he knew he was supposed to. The Doctor was focused on his scroll, but he came around to Sean's side even so.

"Yes, as always. However, I was wondering if you could look at something for me?" Sean turned his head in the seat, and found himself eye to screen with the Doctor's scroll. Clearly displayed was an image of a woman, a little fuzzy and blurred, but one he recognized immediately. It was the one he had seen Arthur with earlier that day.

"Have you seen her before? My associates are trying to get in touch with her, and she's rumored to have been seen in Vale." The Doctor explained, dragging down the cable that plugged into Sean's eye. The Irishman looked at the image for a moment, and an uneasy feeling settled in his gut. When they had reunited in Vacuo, Arthur and John had both been leery of telling Sean about the woman that had rescued them. Something about some bad people being after her. Sean hadn't begrudged them the secrecy at the time, figuring it weren't none of his business, but now that he saw that same woman on the Doctor's scroll...

Well, it's not Sean McGuire had never told a lie.

"Can't say I have. She's a pretty little bird, though." Sean said after a moment. The Doctor nodded, then shrugged nonchalantly.

"Ah, well. Worth a shot, I suppose. Tell me, have you had any issues with the equipment?" The man plugged Sean into the apparatus, and already he could see lines of code running across the display. It was all Latin to Sean, and he could never tell how to read the software language.

"Nothing of the sort. Your work's mint as always, Doc." The Doctor smirked at the praise.

"Alright then. Just lie back, and I'll install the update. It may take a few minutes." He swiped a few more commands, and Sean's vision grew dark. As the machine went to work inside his head, Sean's consciousness receded, and he fell still with slow and even breaths. The Doctor watched him for a time, his eyes going over the lines of code on his scroll. Once he was certain that Sean wasn't going to wake up, he looked back toward the other door in the room, one hidden behind the curtain.

"You can come in now." The door opened, and two men walked in, closing it behind them as they regarded the Irishman in the chair.

"Is he out?" One of the men asked, stepping forward to examine the cable plugged into Sean's head, rings on his fingers clinking as they made contact with the metal frame.

"Of course, mister Van der Linde. So long as he remains connected to my machines, I have full control over mister McGuire here." Dutch looked up at his name, then back down at the young man that he had once thought dead. Behind him, Isaac Norman, formally Josiah Trelawney, looked upon the scene with some manner of distaste.

"Hard at work with your _machines_ as usual, Watts? Got enough oil and batteries for them all?" His distaste for machinery and technology had never been properly explained, but it certainly led to him butting heads with the disgraced Atlesian scientist.

"No, I'm afraid my creations are above such vulgar requirements. Norman, remember why you came here. The sooner you are gone, the sooner I can get back to my own work." Arthur Watts sneered. While the two servants of Salem bickered, Dutch's eyes remained locked on Sean's face, the Irishman looking all the while like he was resting peacefully.

"Well, get on with it then. I don't see why we must rely on the bloody things anyway." Norman huffed, leaning against the counter to distance himself from the whole affair. As Dutch watched, Watts dragged a larger monitor down from the armature, and began typing in a few commands on the monitor and his scroll simultaneously.

"Dear mister McGuire is under the impression that our meetings are for servicing his prosthetics. A ruse, for nothing I build would ever require such routine maintenance, but a useful ruse nonetheless. While he's been walking around the past year in Vale, his implant has been connecting with the CCT on and off. I've had a thousand little programs in his head, poking and probing their programming so that I could exploit the network's weaknesses." An image of a black chess piece, a queen if Dutch remembered correctly, appeared on the monitor for a moment before more lines of code flowed across it. Too little time had passed for the old bandit to be wise to the many different things on Remnant, and he figured it best to leave the computer wizardry to the man that was proficient with it.

"And why is Sean strapped down in a chair at this moment?" Dutch asked, his hands on his hips as Watts continued to type away. If the doctor was perturbed by Dutch's tone, he didn't show it.

"Because the woman that attacked you on the other side of the Gate and the woman mister McGuire just reacted to are one in the same. I've dealt with him long enough to know he was lying. Not only that, but with a little review of the footage he has been recording, and I will be able to find out more than just where they've been." The day's happening flashed by on the monitor, almost faster than Dutch could keep up with, and all from Sean's perspective. Dutch had known and watched many people, and could decently predict their behavior, but it was another thing entirely to watch through another person's eye like they were. It felt...unnatural, though he knew better than to say so in present company. Unnatural was this group's specialty, as he had found out.

"Ah ha! Looks like the man you're after bought a new scroll this morning." Watts paused the scenery, then tracked it to freeze on a particular frame. In the scene, several people were walking by Sean as he raised a hand, and Arthur Morgan was grinning at him from a small group of people. One of them was the she-devil that had laid open his hand and killed Micah, and the other two were presumed family of some kind. It mattered little at this point; Summer Rose had attacked him, but she had also revealed traitors in his camp. Micah had been handled, but the other...

Arthur had to pay. When Dutch had needed him most, when the gang had needed him, Arthur had turned tail and ran. He'd left some half assed note about TB and then slunk off into the wilderness to die alone like a wounded dog. And when he failed to even do that, he sent this silver eyed witch to haunt him and steal away the rest of the gang entirely. The thought of his wayward son ignited a fire in Dutch's chest, and he couldn't help the hand that trailed to his pistol.

"I checked the purchase records of that store thanks to my connection to the CCT that mister McGuire has helped me build," Watts continued, ignoring Dutch's inner turmoil to gloat on his abilities. "With the proper device ID, I've added mister Morgan's scroll to your map. Anywhere he goes, you will be able to find him." At this moment, Isaac stepped in and placed a hand on Dutch's shoulder, snapping him out of his reverie.

"We appreciate the mumbo jumbo, doctor. And our queen has decreed that mister Morgan be taken alive, yes?" His eyes bore into Dutch's, driving the point home. "Until we know what it is that Arthur was doing with miss Rose, he's more valuable to us alive than dead. That, and I would hate to kill someone that has done me so much kindness."

Thunder crossed Dutch's face, and he shoved Isaac out of the way and walked back out the door they had come through, slamming it behind him in the process. The two in the room that were still conscious watched him go, and Watts looked at his companion wryly.

"And why do we need mister Van der Linde at all, Isaac? You're not one to drag along stray pets." Isaac scoffed and tighten his tie, blatantly ignoring Watts' searching eyes.

"Dutch has skill in manipulation people, though he may need to adjust to Remnant and its intricacies. Once this Arthur business is settled, I can assure you he will be a fine addition to our little alliance. All he needs is the proper guidance." The dimension hopper looked down at Sean, his brow creasing slightly. "What will you do with the young man, now that he's covered for Arthur and the others?"

"Deception was expected, so I can't really fault him for it." Watts keyed in a few more commands, his eyes combing the lines of code for any discrepancies. "As long as he remains in Vale, he's providing me with a window into the CCT. If Cinder's gambit is to come to fruition soon, a back door into Ozpin's computers will prove useful." At the mention of Ozpin, it was Isaac's turn to frown. Watts knew that there was history between Beacon's Headmaster and Salem's favorite vagabond, but Isaac remained tight lipped about it. It was nothing important enough to distract him from his task, but mysteries were meant to be solved.

"Thank you for your help, Doctor. Let me know if there's anything I can do to ease your burdens." With that, Isaac followed his new recruit back out, undoubtedly to the car that had brought them there. Alone with an unconscious Sean, Arthur Watts allowed a devious smile to cross his face. Isaac may have been Salem's favorite, but bringing Dutch into the fold was causing him no small amount of problems. Three of the Van der Linde gang were running rampant around Remnant. One was loose, one served the Queen of the Grimm, and the other was unconscious, firmly under the disgraced scientist's thumb.

"Your friends are rapidly finding more trouble than they can handle, boy." Arthur Watts told his unconscious patient, closing the window and stepping to the side. Though he was done downloading the footage from today and checking on the CCT's latest changes, he made no move to unplug Sean from the machine.

"I'll think I'll keep you here for the night if you don't mind, mister McGuire. Just so that I can...keep an eye on you." A chuckle escaped Watts, and he placed a hand on the light controls near the door. As the lights dimmed, Sean McGuire slept on.

* * *

**A/N:** Short compared to the last chapter, but we've got a lot of different angles going right now. Dutch is after Arthur, Sean is strapped to a table, Qrow is FINALLY in the loop, and Adam is being tempted to the dark side. What will happen next?


	19. Chapter 19

** A/N: **Here we come to what is essentially the halfway point for Luck Takes a Turn. This chapter will be a long one, and the heist is here! Unfortunately, the White Fang will run into a few unexpected factors that will dramatically change the game. Leading up to it will also be Adam's turn to the dark side.

**Chapter 19**

The trip to Mistral made Arthur reassess his judgment on airships. The ride to Vale had been on a cozy little private deal, a man flying for the airship company to make some extra Lien. Just him, Arthur, and some bourbon for a good fourteen hour ride. The craft he rode _back_ to Mistral, however, was clearly a company deal. Instead of a seat up front, he found himself in the middle of the craft with about forty other people, their seats so close together both forward and on either side that he'd bumped elbows with his neighbors more times than he could count. And that airship had been slower, too.

Arthur didn't so much grab his back from the overhead as he did snatch it, ready to disembark and go back to the world of horses and cars. This flying business wasn't for him. Then came the infernal waiting as the airship struggled to find a berth, as for some reason there was an excess of traffic at the airport. From the tiny windows the airship provided, Arthur could see a much larger craft taking up two of the airport's five gates.

The larger craft was far more graceful that the tug he had flown in on, with white plating and sleek armor that better fit the profile of a bird of a prey than a ship. Atlesian engines were swept back, idling at a gentle hover as people moved back and forth from the cargo area. Judging by the luggage coming out, there had to be at least twenty people on board. And the only reason Arthur knew that the ship was Atlesian was thanks to the Schnee family crest on the prow, a single white snowflake.

"Damn Schnees, flaunting their wealth all over the place." Arthur heard someone grumble behind him. "I've got places to be, dammit." In that, the outlaw agreed with his fellow passenger. What was supposed to a fifteen minute disembark turned into a mind numbing hour and a half of profuse apologies from the airship staff and some free drinks to tide the passengers over. Apparently, no one told them that the only thing worse than impatient customers were impatient drunks.

Thankfully, Arthur was able to escape what was sure to become a melee in time, trotting through the terminal with a quicker step than he normally would. The sooner he was out, the better. He followed the signs to the front desk, where a multitude of people stood waiting around. Some carried baggage and some did not, so a few were waiting for passengers. There were even a couple with signs. He watched as families and friends embraced each other, all talking animatedly as they discussed their travels and adventures. It was nice, watching it all, even it made him feel a little empty. He'd been stealing and killing for so long, all he'd ever really done it for was himself and the gang. Close to his fortieth birthday, all that selfishness didn't feel so great, and all he had to show for the gang was John's family.

Sure, he'd had a son with Eliza, but even visiting Isaac had never felt right somehow. He'd knocked her up, named the kid, then ran off gallivanting across the country for months at a time. Sure, he'd come around and support them however he could, but a man who visited a boy a few days out of the year could never be considered a father. And unfortunately, that was all the effort he had put into them, so caught was he in the gang and his own personal code. A few years of that, and he shouldn't have been surprised to see two crosses out front of their home. It was a regret he had carried for some time, and seeing all the smiling families around him brought a little bit of that pain back all over again.

"Arthur!" He was torn from his musings by his own name, and looked up toward the exit to find the voice. He couldn't stop the grin that crossed his face when he saw Sienna standing next to the welcome desk, a bored look on her face as she waved him over. Given their SDC issued holdover, there was no telling how long she'd been waiting on him.

"Hey there. Good to see ya." He walked right up to her, and was pleased when she accepted his hug without complaint. Judging by her flat ears and expression, however, she had plenty to gripe about on their way back to base. When they separated, he nodded his head toward the tarmac. "You see who's causing all the fuss?"

"The Schnee heiress, if the paparazzi are to be believed." Was her bemused response, and she pointed out a few suited men with scrolls and microphones near the gate the Schnee ship had been docked with. "Weiss Schnee, here in Mistral for her last charity performance before she dedicates her life to that of a Huntress." Sienna rolled her eyes at the alleged purpose. Though Arthur had no guff with the company himself, Sienna had seen many different examples for why the Schnee Dust Company was Faunus enemy number one. As such, any altruistic claims like charity from there were instantly met with suspicion and disbelief. Given what he had come back to help with, it was a concern.

"Any idea where she might be staying?" Arthur asked carefully, scanning to see if any of the nearby were paying attention. "Considering our 'remodeling plans'?" Sienna smirked, but didn't answer as she led the way out of the airport, out onto the stone streets of Mistral's capital. There, a small car waited for them, a rental if Arthur were to guess. A tan colored sedan, if Sienna was right about it. It was too new and too clean to have been anywhere near the White Fang's new base. He took the passenger seat this time, on account of having no driving experience whatsoever, and Sienna took the driver's seat. Only once they were down the road and away from the airport did she continue the conversation.

"It will take some time to check with our contacts at the manor, but the parasites following the Schnee around were talking about a local hotel. Apparently, every room in the building was booked for 'security reasons'. Apparently the White Fang aren't the only ones hostile with the SDC." Rival companies, jealous board members – it was list unto itself just how many people had an interest in changing up the line of succession for Remnant's largest Dust exporter. Cutthroat capitalism, as Hosea might have called it. As they got further away from the airport, the road curved as it led away from the city center, and he could see the heiress' ship one last time. Arthur was used to going around without much trust for people, but that was a life he'd chosen. To be born into a life where every smiling face could be a knife in the back? You would have to guard yourself and everything you held dear, and even then you could still lose everything.

"Sounds like a cold life." Arthur mused out loud. Sienna looked at him out the corner of her eye, but she didn't comment further. Instead, they just sat in content silence, save for the radio that played a slow tune at low volume.

_"Mirror, tell me something? Tell me who's the loneliest of all?"_ The young woman on the radio sang, a somber melody that reflected Arthur's musings. He'd heard plenty of thing about how the company treated Faunus and had shady dealings all over, but next to nothing about the family that had built it. Even when they were robbing his trains, Arthur had at least known what Leviticus Cornwall had looked like.

"So tell me about these Schnee folks." Arthur began, as much to break the quiet as it was to satisfy his curiosity. "I figure if we're gonna be guests in their house, might as well know something about 'em." Sienna gave him a dry look, almost as if to question why he would ask such a thing. When she saw his eyebrow raised, she remembered that Arthur wasn't exactly from around here.

"Right. You just want to hear me talk." She accused, and he chuckled at her words. "At the start of it all, the Schnee Dust Company was actually a good place to work for. The man that started it all, Nicholas Schnee, relied almost exclusively on Faunus and humans that needed jobs when he founded the company. There were expeditions to take, foundries to build, and a whole lot of mining to do. And he offered equal salaries for everyone. Really, things didn't go downhill with them until Nicholas passed away and control of the company was passed down to his son-in-law, Jacques." At the mention of the current Schnee patriarch, Sienna's brow darkened immensely. She kept her eyes on the road as they turned, exiting the mile and a half of gridlock in favor of an open road bound for the edge of the city. A vast wall slowly approached, and the amount of traffic thinned as well.

"Where Nicholas was all about expansion and fair play, Jacques' policies fall around one thing only: Lien. How to make it, who to get it from, and where they can spend as little as possible. Anyone who has ever spoken to him for any length of time paints the same picture: he's the patron saint of greed and corruption, and the primary reason why we're so at odds with his company. Hell, even his own family hates him." At that, Arthur was surprised. Sure, living the high life had its own risks and dangers, but at the very least you could hide from your asshole of a father on a yacht somewhere?

"How do you figure that? Seems like the leader of the White Fang has an in-depth knowledge of the Schnee family." He prodded. Sienna huffed and pulled out her scroll, searching on it one handed until she found what she was looking for and then handed it to Arthur. When she did, Arthur couldn't help but blanch at just how much information was available. Everything from favorite drinks to favorite colors was listed on the website, which was called _D! Dust Inc_ of all things. It looked less about a mining site and more like a whole bunch of gossip.

"People _read_ this hogwash?" Arthur asked incredulously, squinting to read some of the different fonts before giving up entirely and handing Sienna her scroll back.

"Once you reach a certain tax bracket, everyone suddenly wants to know everything about you. What clothes you wear, what movies you see, even what toilet paper you use." At Arthur's blank stare, she laughed. "I'm not kidding. Our greatest adversaries in the fight for equality are under a microscope. We have to sift through the tabloids a little, but everything we need to know is in there."

"I feel like I'd have punched out a few of the nosy pricks by now." Arthur growled, and Sienna hummed in agreement. That kind of invasion of privacy, all to entertain the masses with tabloid bullshit?

"Anyway. Willow Schnee, the matriarch, isn't seen much these days. What pictures we do have of her show quite a few bottles of liquor nearby as well. I guess it's a stressful thing when your husband marries into wealth and then takes over your father's company. But the eldest daughter used to be the heiress until she joined the military. She outright refused her birthright and instead joined the Atlesian Special Forces. She's quite the soldier, from how Marcus tells it." Hmm. Running away from responsibility or just getting out from under daddy's thumb, the Army would not have been Arthur's first choice. Then again, the uniformity and discipline of the military was probably the one place the woman could outrun her own last name.

"Alright. You said eldest. How many others are there?" Arthur asked, pulling out his own scroll so that Sienna wouldn't be distracted. It was an older model, styled similar to a compass than the extending scrolls everyone else used these days. It still had a touch screen, but it was sturdier and built to weather the elements. When he turned it on, he started searching for more information on the Schnees.

"Two more. A girl and a boy. The girl, Weiss, we just saw at the airport. She's had an impressive singing career, but all the talk is that she's seeking to serve the public like her sister, but she wants to be a Huntress instead of a soldier. Either to avoid the Army life or to keep the title of heiress, I couldn't say, but she's just a few years away from adulthood. Lastly is Whitley, who is a bit younger than Weiss. Not much is known about him, but every picture he's in he is _right_ next to his father. Probably wants to be just like him when he's older." Sienna slowed down as they neared the wall, and the security checkpoint that led out of the city. Just inside of the wall's perimeter, a small collection of buildings sat to welcome travelers into the protected zone. Two restaurants, a motel, and a rental service were plainly displayed, the last of which why she was pulling in.

"If we don't just bring the company down entirely, Weiss sounds like the best replacement for her father. But it's difficult to wade through asinine interviews and public appearances to get her measure. So we'll stick with plan A until then; discredit and harass the SDC until they give us the change we deserve." Sienna finished, guiding the vehicle into a parking spot. Arthur paused to consider that last statement as she climbed out of the car, walking into the rental service with the keys spinning around her fingers. He climbed out as well, stowing his scroll and waiting outside as he considered their target.

When Hosea had planned a job, he always had the inside knowledge on the mark. Whether from drinking or gambling with them, the old man had driven the lesson into Arthur's brain time and again: know your target. It helped cut down on surprises, and there was no such thing as knowing too much about the person you were robbing. Sure, there was a moral impact, but that had become a somewhat new consideration for Arthur.

A few minutes later Sienna returned, bereft of keys and pocketing what Lien she'd gotten back. She waved for him to follow, and together they walked out of the city's walls and out into the wilderness. Outside of the protective barrier, there were still a few buildings and people milling about. The guard patrols kept things civil close to the entrance, so it was safe enough to build a stable and a bounty outpost.

"You brought Famine along?" He asked, surprised that she would ride his horse all this way on her lonesome. Sienna just shrugged, not meeting his eyes as she kept walking toward the large barn that stabled a few other animals besides his Arabian.

"What can I say? He's grown on me. Besides, I figured you would appreciate a more familiar way to travel, and I couldn't afford to borrow one of the trucks for a whole day." She explained. He watched her go, and was about to comment further when he remembered the favor from Ozpin.

"You go on ahead, I gotta figure something out with the bounty board. I'll just be a minute." Sienna waved a hand behind her, and Arthur broke off from her to approach the board. Like in Patch, it was a holographic display that showed all of the local jobs available, as well as a smaller list of the active Huntsmen and Huntresses in the area. Last time, Summer's scroll hadn't been recognized because she'd been listed KIA, so the computer had wanted him to register all over again. But now that he had his own scroll, it was time to see if Ozpin had come through on his end.

_"Bounty hunter recognized."_ The automated voice announced. _"Welcome, Arthur Morgan. All bounties are available."_ Arthur smirked and crossed his arms as he read over a few, surprised that the Headmaster of Vale had enough pull to get him full access to the board. Most bounties could be taken by anyone, but there were a few that were reserved for Huntsmen and Huntresses only. It proved just how much influence Ozpin wielded across Remnant. _And to think, he tried to recruit me too._ Arthur thought to himself. He walked up closer and waved his hand across the board, angling away from all the Grimm killing and getting to the page marked _Fugitives_.

Instead of the basic description and area where Grimm needed culling, the board provided profile images of wanted persons, each with a summary of information on the target and the resulting reward upon their capture. Arthur was somewhat surprised to see that all bounties were capture only, though Remnant seemed a little less draconian than they had been back in the states. None of the names or faces looked familiar, but he tabbed through them just to get a gist of it all.

The clip clop of hooves on beaten stone and dirt pulled his attention away from the bounty board, and Arthur couldn't suppress the relief he felt at seeing Famine trotting over to him, Sienna guiding him by the reins. He'd had enough of the airship and car deal; Famine was a far more familiar method of travel than everything else he'd seen on Remnant, and definitely his most preferred. He ran a hand up and down the Arabian's neck as it nuzzled him, the horse tossing his head and nearly knocking Arthur's hat off.

"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too, boy. I hope you behaved while I was gone." The horse chuffed, as if to brush off his comment, and Sienna chuckled.

"He's been a little restless, but nothing we couldn't handle. Blake tried to ride him one day in between sparring sessions. It...did not go well." Sienna's smirk implied just how Blake had been unsaddled, and Arthur couldn't resist the cheeky grin that crossed his face. It faded, however, when he realized what she had said.

"Wait, Blake? What's she doing in these parts?" Sienna blinked, then sighed and looked skyward.

"Right, I forgot to tell you about that. Suffice to say, little Blake ran away from home to join the White Fang. Illia too. I'll tell you all about it on the way back." She handed over his reins, and Arthur climbed into the saddle for the first time in what felt like ages.

"Alright, but you've got the rear." He held out his hand, and Sienna took it, leaping up onto the back of the saddle. He didn't miss her conspiratory chuckle when she landed, her arm looping around his midsection to keep from falling off.

"Why Arthur, that's the nicest thing you've said all day." The outlaw was caught off guard, and Sienna could only laugh as he urged Famine on, eager to focus on blazing the trail instead of the teasing woman latched onto his back.

* * *

Originally, Abigail had never thought that anything in Vale could help her get used to things on Remnant. It was too alien, too foreign and full of strange people. As she handed the woman behind the counter a handful of Lien however, she had to admit that shopping was still a guilty pleasure. And what wonderful things they had! It seemed like there was an appliance for just about every need, from kitchen utensils to clothes washing and everything in between. Why, the other day she had seen a strange little cutter that could dice onions and tomatoes in seconds!

Today had been meant for just a grocery run, but John's work with Junior was paying off even more now that he was a little more trusted. He'd given her more money than usual, on the condition that she get some things for herself as well. She was now the proud owner of two new scarfs, a brand new dress, and a summer jacket that she just couldn't let go. Jack had to carry the groceries in light of her recent purchases, but the growing boy seemed happy to help his momma.

Abby waved goodbye to the cashier and led Jack out of the store, heading for the corner to check out one last little shop before heading home. Her son followed dutifully, his new pants and shoes a far cry from the hand-me-downs and bare feet they'd had just months ago. When they had first come to Vacuo, Abby was ashamed to admit that she had resented Summer and Arthur for taking the choice out of their hands and dumping them in this wild and strange place. But as time went on, and money kept rolling in, she had realized that she had been too hasty to judge. True, Vale was different, but they had a roof over their heads, new clothes on their backs, and fresh food every night that didn't have to be cleaned or gutted. Her studies were coming along right next to Jack's, and John wasn't the irresponsible cur that she had cursed him for so many times. Not only was he supporting the family, but the pressed shirts and high society that frequented the Club had turned him into a reluctant gentleman.

"Hey momma." Jack spoke up, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "Can we go in there real quick?" When Abby turned to see where he meant, she smiled softly. A brand new store had just opened, so new that the sign advertising its business was still covered with a tarp and leaned against the building. However, a paper sign taped to the window insisted that they were open, with a larger sign beneath it that just read 'BOOKS'. Jack's studies had advanced his reading ability, and it would be nice to get him something that wasn't required by the school for once.

"Alright Jack, but just one book. We have to get the milk home before it spoils." She allowed, and he nearly danced in the street even with two hands full of groceries. They crossed the street from the corner and approached the store, Abigail opening the door for Jack so he could go in first.

Once inside, Abby could see even more signs that it was a new business. The air still hung heavy with the scent of paint, and the wooden shelving that held the books and comics were mismatched. It was likely the owner had put everything they had into the store, but at least there was quite the selection. A small bench was sat near the center of the room, away from the counter but close enough to the shelves so that customers could enjoy their purchases. Abby took the bags from Jack and sat herself and their goods down on it.

"Go on, then. But don't make a fuss." She waved her hand, delighting in the smile that nearly broke his face in half.

"Yes momma!" And with that, he was gone. There were only a few shelves stocked with books, so she knew he couldn't take dreadfully long, but Abby relished it as much a moment of peace as a respite from walking all day. Horseless carriages, or cars, were very popular in Vale, but once you were in the city they became more nuisance than luxury. John had originally expressed interest in getting one, but Abigail had put a stop to that. None of them had any idea how to operate one, and she'd seen plenty of wrecks on the news. It was a danger she would not tolerate with their family.

Jack perused the shelves with a hungry gleam in his eye, eagerly scanning the titles on display. He faced the problem of being surrounded by choices without knowing what it was he was looking for. A few artfully draw covers drew his eye, but most of them were romance novels or comic books. Comics were nice, he supposed, but they never seemed long enough. And because they were issued frequently, it seemed like every edition left you wanting more. Jack wanted a story that he could finish, but had enough meat to it to leave him occupied for a time. No ninety word wonders for him, no sir.

Towards the far left corner of the store, he saw the westerns were displayed, according to the white lettering painted on the wall. Bold for the owner, considering how little westerns seemed to be read in Vale, but it seemed that a special shelf was designed just for this section. A single book sat on display, protected by a glass case with several copies below it. It was displayed proudly, albeit a bit naked as there were no other signs or words to explain why the book got special treatment. It was covered with a paper sheath, colored red and showed a grizzled outlaw, facing outward toward the reader with a revolver in hand and his hat shadowing his face. Beneath that, several other images of a train, explosions, and even a tropical island showed just how varied the story was. Jack walked up to get a closer look, and grabbed one of the copies from beneath the display. There, written proudly along the spine, was the title.

_Red Dead Redemption: the Tale of Arthur Morgan._

Jack's eyes widened as he read it, and he immediately flipped the book open. There was a title page, the publisher's mark, and all the usual documentations that came with a book, and then a small note from the author. No, a dedication.

_This story is for Arthur. Who sought his own freedom, and granted me mine along the way._ Obviously whoever had written the book was fond of Arthur, but there was no way that it could be the same man. Uncle Arthur hated books! Or at least, he'd never liked reading them too much. It always seemed like he'd rather draw in his journal or go off on adventures. No sooner had Jack thought that, he turned the page again and found himself staring at a familiar scene, though one he had tried to forget. A grizzled Arthur, though the details were a little different about his face, sat propped up against a tree, his breath vapor on the wind as he stood out against the snow. In the background, the covered wagon that they had used for the longest time was traveling down the road, and the abandoned town of Colter was in the distance. On the page opposite of the illustration, the chapter title was displayed.

_Escape from Blackwater._

Hardly able to contain his excitement, Jack bolted out from the corner of the store, waving his discovery high above his head.

"Momma, you've got to see this! Look what I found!" He chattered excitedly. Abigail sighed heavily as she gave the book a suffering glance, not really recognizing it the first time her eyes ran over it.

"You already found one? I thought you didn't like westerns." She asked tiredly, likely more worried about getting back on her feet so soon. Jack couldn't help but stomp his feet in frustration, a habit he had been trying to drop.

"No, mom! Look! It's a story about Uncle Arthur!" Abigail blinked, then looked at the cover again. The likeness on the cover bore a rough resemblance of the man, true, but she hardly felt like it was him.

"Sweetheart, I don't think..." The rest of her words died on her lips as she flipped the book over and read the spine, her breath catching in her chest as she did so. There could be no mistake, especially when she saw the author's name. _Tacitus Kilgore. _The alias the gang had used whenever they picked up parcels in town. To see it again, and here after so many years, made her heart leap up into her throat. She opened the book to the first few pages as Jack had, and read the author's note and saw the first illustration about their time in Colter. _How...who knows about that, besides Arthur and John? _Sean had been in Marshal custody during their time in Colter, or on the run from them.

Just as she began to tell Jack that it was time to leave, she heard movement from behind the counter. A small door led back to some kind of office, and a man with dark hair than ran down to some impressive sideburns peeked out over the register.

"Hello there! Sorry about the mess, I just opened last week. I'm still putting the finishing touches in." The man's voice was rough, but friendly. Abigail put on an amiable smile and stood, but looked back down to the book in her hand. She walked up to the counter and set it down, almost afraid to touch it.

"I'm sorry, we were just browsing. Could...could you tell me more about this book? It seemed dreadfully familiar." She asked politely. The man only needed one look before he puffed up with pride, a confident smile on his face.

"Why, that's the book that helped me open this place. A friend of mine loaned me a journal he'd found, and I wrote a western based on what was in it. Quite a story, not to boast." The man sighed contentedly, his eyes downcast even as his smile remained. "The publishers loved it, and I made enough on the initial release to open this store. Tukson's Book Trade wouldn't exist without Arthur Morgan and his band of thieves and outlaws." When he mentioned Arthur, his tone was kind and respectful, and Abigail looked down at the book in wonder. At the time of Colter, and even shortly after that, she had been too focused on John's injuries and helping out around camp to bother with the men's struggles, particularly those involving the train robbery and such. But she had always reviled the plans Dutch and Hosea had cooked up, always trying to strike it rich and avoid the menial labor of honest work.

To see tales of those trying times left her conflicted, but she could also tell how that story had helped this man. Arthur had given their tale to someone else, and it had at least done some good.

"Arthur...sounds like a wonderful man." Abby managed to choke out. When Tukson noticed her reaction, she busied herself with reaching for her wallet. "How much for the book?"

Tukson gave Abigail and Jack both a long, searching stare, wondering for a moment what about them was so familiar. He'd gone over his source material with a fine toothed comb, but he'd also had to improvise on certain characters. But if he didn't know any better, he'd say that the two in front of him strongly resembled John Marston's family.

"Thirteen Lien. No point charging more than that, even if it is a best seller." He looked like he wanted to say more, but something in Abigail's eyes stopped him. He rang up the purchase instead, and placed the book in a paper bag with his store's name stamped on the outside. Abigail took it and gave her thanks, then turned around to leave. As she collected her bags from the bench, one last question weighed on her.

"Not to spoil the book, but..." She paused. "Do you think Arthur ever got the happy ending he deserved?" Tukson's eyes widened, and she could tell that everything had finally fallen into place for him. He chuckled after his initial shock wore off, and leaned one elbow onto the counter.

"The man himself told me that the only westerns that end on a good note were the ones that weren't over yet. But...yeah. Last I checked on him, he was pretty close. Even found a woman that could put up with him, or so I hear." Abigail smiled, a real and happy smile, and turned to usher Jack out the door. The young boy gladly took the bags of groceries once more, though he clutched his new book to his chest as well.

* * *

The base was finally serviceable, though it was a little impatient to put it that way. In just a matter of weeks, Marcus' crew had turned a dilapidated ruin into a functioning and practical base of operations. All of the amenities were on hand, though maybe not so many luxuries at the moment. Still, the quarters had water and power, the perimeter walls were strong, and the halls echoed with the sounds of training and camaraderie. Arthur was on base, helping some of the new recruits with marksmanship and survival, and they had more pouring in every day thanks to Cain and Marcus. By all means, Sienna should have been happy with their progress.

She was not.

The one detail that had fractured her otherwise ecstatic mood was the absence of one Adam Taurus. Worse still was the knowledge that he had slunk off to meet the Lupin brothers.

"They approached him with a proposition while I was sparring with Blake and Illia." The soldier turned foreman rumbled. "He couldn't tell me about it with them near, and by the time I dismissed them for the day he was gone. Sam reported seeing him leave by the road, but the last time anyone saw him was early this morning." Which meant he had been missing when she went to go pick up Arthur. The irritation caused a deep growl to escape her throat, and Arthur placed a settling hand on her shoulder. No words or looks, just a hand to let her know that she needed to stay calm. She gave the anger its due, let the ugly emotion roll over her in waves, then stuffed it back where it belonged and took a deep breath.

"Find those two parasites and have them in my office immediately. Without weapons." Sienna instructed, and Marcus nodded respectfully. "If they're acting behind my back, I'll need to remind them just who is in charge here." She returned his nod, and Marcus took it as his dismissal and walked away, in search of the two merchant Lupins. Over near the entrance to the base, Blake and Illia stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do as the Supreme Leader stalked up to them. Though her posture indicated that she was upset, Sienna made sure that her words were measured and even. The students were not to blame for the actions of their teacher.

"Belladonna, Amitola. Do you know where Taurus went?" She asked calmly. They both held her gaze and shook their heads, though Illia shuffled uneasily on her feet. A nervous tick, but not one that implied a lie. She was simply uncomfortable with the situation. At least, that's what Sienna chose to believe.

"Very well. After Marcus is done with his assignment, I have a task for you two. Nothing too dangerous, just enough to get you some experience and use what you've been taught. All message your scrolls when I'm ready for you." The two paused, Illia looking to Blake for instruction, and the young Belladonna didn't leave.

"What about Adam? What will happen to him?" Sienna opened her mouth, a sharp retort ready, but she closed it and sighed. While they had loyalty to Adam, both as their teacher and she suspected as Blake's paramour, they had done nothing wrong to earn her frustration. Adam himself was not to be blamed yet, either, until she discovered just what the Lupin brothers were up to. The answer came not from Sienna, but from Arthur. He stepped in front of Sienna and held his hands out to his side, showing that he wasn't being aggressive.

"Adam may have been duped by these two just as we were. Right now, we just gotta find out what they're up to and where they sent him. For all we know, they're plotting on him just like they did to Sienna. We'll let you know what happens when we give you yer marching orders. For now, just put your faith in your Supreme Leader and let us do the talking." Blake frowned, clearly still at odds with the conversation, but she nodded reluctantly. Sienna gave a nod of agreement as well, and together she and Arthur walked past the two trainees.

The entrance to the White Fang base was fortified, a wide atrium that narrowed to two heavy doors made of wood and reinforced steel. It provided intruders with no cover, and created a bottleneck if they were to get past the front door. The blue standard of the White Fang, with the wolf in front of the circle, hung proudly from the ceiling. Inside the double doors, a long hallway of cement and stone ran for at least sixty feet, absent of small alcoves and pockets to provide cover. At the end of the hall was a four way intersection. Forward led to the main assembly area, to the left went to general quarters. Arthur and Sienna went right.

Two more large doors blocked their path, and Arthur opened them with some difficulty to reveal what he would call a throne room. Sienna insisted that it was for receiving diplomats once their cause gained ground. The ground was covered with rich red carpet, and several landings climbed upward towards a regal chair, red with gold frame and the White Fang's standard hanging above it. The room was wide and the ceiling high, and provided the perfect seat of power for the new revolution. Even if Arthur snickered about it. To the right, away from the grandiose setting, was a smaller door. If Sienna was to receive guests in the 'diplomacy room', then this was her actual office. It had a much more comfortable leather chair behind a sturdy oak desk, and the room was decorated with intricately drawn scrolls. Some had paintings, while others bore calligraphy and words of wisdom. In the center of the room, three chairs faced the desk that were of similar make but inferior quality to the one behind the desk.

Sienna crossed the room and slid behind her desk, sinking into the comfortable chair with a sigh. Arthur remained standing, off to the side and leaning against the wall as she contemplated her upcoming meeting.

"Figured you'd be in charge for at least a year before people starting gunning for your seat." He stated helpfully, and Sienna shot him a look. He held up his hands innocently. "Just remember: people will talk about how you handle this. Don't pull your punches, keep your people in mind. They don't want to fight under another tyrant." Sienna groaned and sat back, dragging her hands down her face.

"I know, Arthur. I have this under control. These two have been a thorn in my side since before I took Ghira's position. I've come up with a few responses to their grievances." She pointed a finger his way, her face serious. "You, on the other hand, need to leave the talking to me. I know you want to help, but I need to have every word in this discussion. Anything you contribute will just undermine my authority. I know that's not your _intention_, but just let me handle it, okay?" Arthur snorted at the politics of it, but relented and nodded his head.

"Yeah, yeah. You won't hear a peep from me." He held up a hand as if he were taking an oath. It made Sienna relax, and she allowed a small smile to play across her face.

"Thank you, Arthur. I know you want to help, but I appreciate that you let me handle my own affairs. _This time._" She growled the last part, and he waved off her irritation. Of course she would bring up the fight with her brother again, or rather his reaction to it. He'd learned his lesson already. It was just hard to sit back and let things happen when he had seen that strategy end badly.

"When you gonna let that die? I said I was sorry." He griped, removing his hat to scratch at his head. Sienna's grin widened, and she leaned forward playfully with her hands on her desk.

"Aw, is Arthur's feelings hurt? I won't be forgetting that anytime soon, my friend. You'll hear it at least another thousand times, I promise." She laughed at his exasperated groan. They spoke about a few other topics for several minutes, relaxing as Marcus hunted down the Lupin brothers. Arthur was in the middle of the story about mister Black and mister White when there was a sharp knock at the door. Sienna and Arthur shared a look, and the outlaw straightened up and took his place near the door and away from Sienna. If she was doing White Fang business, he had to be seen as a bystander and nothing more. She couldn't be accused of being under his influence.

"Enter." The door opened slowly, revealing a musclebound Marcus as he held the door open, and Romulus and Remus followed in behind him. The large foreman maintained a dead stare on Remus, who for some reason was returning it with a glare of his own. As if the smaller merchant could hold a candle to a former soldier. It spoke of the arrogance the two Faunus had, and their contempt for the rest of the White Fang. The two brothers sat down in the chairs across from Sienna, both of them gauging her mood and the hooded amber eyes that watched their every move. Once they were seated, Sienna finally looked up at Marcus in the doorway.

"Thank you, Marcus. You may go now." The large Faunus nodded, his eyes lingering on Arthur, before he closed the door. They could hear his heavy footsteps fade away, and soon the office was filled with a tense silence that no one seemed to want to break. Arthur stood with his arms crossed, ready to step in if the brothers got lippy, though he knew better than to do anything without Sienna's instruction. This was her show.

Finally, Romulus broke the tension after a glance at the outlaw behind them. "Sienna, I don't mean to be rude, but why is there a human present for this-"

"_Silence._" Her irritated hiss interrupted him, and the wolf Faunus sat a little bit straighter with an audible gulp. His brother said nothing, but merely kept his eyes forward. "I do not ask you who I shall bring into my office. Mister Morgan is here for the all too likely outcome that the two of you will be escorted out of this base. Violently." Sienna stood, her eyes alight with fire as she placed her hands behind her back. No one missed how violently the large chair was thrown back as she did so. The two brothers shared a look, but they remained silent.

"You two will answer my questions truthfully, promptly, and without hesitation. You approached Adam Taurus with an assignment of some sort. What was it and why?" She towered over them, and Remus' face contorted into some facsimile of a smile. It was very plastic and fake.

"Come now, Supreme Leader. We would never dream of going behind your back in such...a... manner." His attempt at charisma wilted under her unrelenting gaze, and the man averted his own with an embarrassed cough. Seeing their situation only worsening, Romulus spoke up once more.

"We acquired information that a Robert Morrison, one of the SDC's senior board members, was in the area nearby. According to our sources, he was traveling with a lot of important documents and funds. Apparently the SDC is attempting to buy new land permits for another mine in the area." Romulus explained, tugging at the collar of his shirt. "We made young Taurus aware of this fact, and encouraged him to appropriate these funds to better serve us here." When he finished speaking, Sienna took in a slow breath, her eyes closing for a moment as she processed the information. The tension did not ease; if anything, it seemed that their words only fueled her ire.

"He left his sword behind." Remus added nervously. "We made it abundantly clear that he was to take the assets, not harm anyone outright. Otherwise, the message would be tainted." Behind them, Arthur rubbed his temples in exasperation. These men had played on Adam's hatred for mankind, and they weren't grasping just how furious this made Sienna. Not just for sending Adam out on an unsanctioned mission, but for doing so behind her back.

"Let me get this straight." Sienna breathed out, deceptively cool and collected as she paced behind her desk. "You contacted Adam Taurus, who is known for his hatred of humans and the SDC in particular, without my permission or knowledge and instructed him to rob a high ranking member of the SDC without the weapon he is most familiar with. I presume that you at least had an idea on the man's security detail, or the place he was staying at?" When the two men remained silent, a menacing growl filled the room. "Understand gentlemen, that the only reason you are still darkening this room is because I need to know what kind of damage control I need to run. When we were peers under Ghira, this underhandedness was expected from the two of you. But if you believe for one lousy second that I will tolerate such insubordination, you are _sorely mistaken_." Arthur heard the ominous clink of her battle chain, and the two Lupin brothers heard it as well. They both recoiled in their chairs.

"Morrison is only supposed to be traveling with a personal bodyguard! He'd essentially be undefended for as long as he was on the train!" Remus managed to get out, before another glare from Sienna silenced him once more.

"And if he is so vulnerable? You didn't convince Marcus or Cain to attend to this harebrained assignment; Adam is as likely to kill the man as steal from him!" The flat of her hand made a loud thud as she leaned over the desk. "But you knew that when you approached him, didn't you?"

"Morrison is a known racist! We have documents proving that he has penned and approved policies that discriminate against Faunus workers! Wouldn't his death be a good thing?" Romulus defended, grasping at straws in the face of her ire.

"IF WE HAD NO OTHER CHOICE!" Sienna roared, causing the two brothers to rock back in their chairs. "Steal from him, humiliate him, blackmail him for all I care, but save death as the last resort! We must escalate slowly, or our demands will be cast off as the ransom of murderers and rapists!" The heat in her words washed over Romulus and Remus, the two brothers shrinking into themselves in a vain attempt to escape Sienna's rage. Even Arthur, safe and a few steps behind them, was starting to get goosebumps.

The sight of her in full tirade was...something. He'd deal with that thrill that danced up his spine later. He stood as a bulwark behind the two selfish merchants, providing them no escape from their leader.

"If Adam returns with Lien, documents, and good news, only then will you be allowed to stay. In the event of _any_ other scenario, your support for the White Fang will be removed like a leech and I will cast you out myself." Sienna grasped her face, the snarl growing only more feral as her tiger heritage became more prominent. "Do you fools have ANY IDEA the damage this could do to our cause?!"

The Lupin brothers cast their gaze downward, their ears wilting in submission. Sienna looked like she wanted to howl and scream for another hour, but seeing them sufficiently cowed was enough to reign in her anger. The Supreme Leader took a few deep, calming breaths, and when her eyes opened once more her rage had receded, though it still simmered just beneath the surface.

"When is Adam expected to return?" Romulus looked over at Remus, and the older brother could only shrug and hang his head.

"Tonight, if all goes well. The train carrying Morrison passed through the area just an hour ago. Adam assured us that he would be done in thirty minutes and disembark the train before it made it to Argus." The merchant said lowly. Sienna nodded as she processed the information, her eyes flicking up to Arthur's. He could see the gears turning in her mind, and he kept his confident stare as she planned their next move.

"Mister Morgan, Romulus and Remus Lupin are to be confined to my office until I say otherwise. They are not to leave for any reason." She ordered, authority clear in her voice as she stepped around her desk and past the two humiliated brothers. "I shall await Adam's return. If he has anything to add that you haven't already admitted to, your punishment will go further than simple exile. This is your last chance to speak up." When neither of them came forward, she nodded to Arthur and opened the door. He watched her go, then leaned up against the door after it closed, his arms crossed.

"Well boys, looks like it's you and me for a spell. Do me a favor and don't cause no trouble. The Lady Khan is angry enough already." They didn't respond, but simply sat in their chairs sullenly. A few moments passed in silence, then Romulus spoke up quietly.

"I have to pee..." His brother wasn't much better.

"I don't anymore."

The clock on Sienna's wall had chimed eight times before the knock came at the door. Arthur leaned forward and made sure the Lupins were seated, then opened the door slowly. When he saw that it was Sienna, he opened it the rest of the way and stepped out of her way. Behind her, he could see Adam, looking unhappy as ever. Behind him, he just barely caught young Blake turning the corner. Even when he was in trouble, the young Belladonna followed Adam like a shadow.

"Stand up." Sienna ordered, and Romulus and Remus slowly climbed to their feet. Judging by their defeated expressions, Sienna had discovered something else and they knew it. "The two of you are to be gone from here in one hour. Gather your belongings and never dirty the name of the White Fang with your presence again." She jutted her chin toward Adam, who also stood with his arms crossed. "Adam will make certain that you move with all possible haste. He is the one you planned to use, after all." Taking that as permission, the young bull reached forward and pulled Remus from his place, hauling him out of the office and into the hallway. Romulus quailed before his masked gaze when he turned around, and hustled out the door under his own power.

When the two traitorous merchants had gone, Sienna sighed and sank into her chair. Arthur made to sit in one of the chairs the Lupins had vacated, but figured they'd be walking out soon anyway. He was about ready to go stir crazy.

"So? What'd you find out?" He probed. The tiger Faunus ran an elegant hand through her hair and kept it there, a single amber eye looking at him through her fingers.

"Adam performed his task without issue. Apparently Morrison had brought along a hefty sum to bribe local land owners with him. What concerns me is the discussion that those two buffoons had with him before he left." Arthur cocked a brow.

"They said that they'd met with Adam before he left. I was wondering what they said to him." At his statement, Sienna chuckled dryly.

"I'm not talking about Adam. They spoke with Morrison." That was surprising. Arthur leaned forward, a disbelieving grin on his face.

"You're shitting me."

"Nope." Sienna pushed herself up from the chair, lest she become to comfortable. "He was a former business partner before he took a position on the SDC Board of Directors. They were doing business with him even after they joined the White Fang. They told him that they would be leverage for power in the coming months. According to Adam's interrogation, they had promised to sabotage the White Fang's efforts from the inside after they deposed me." That she could say such a thing with a straight face told him that she'd had time to calm down. That, and it was assuring to see that even though he'd participated in this treachery, Adam had been on their side from the start. The Lupin brothers had underestimated him.

"We gonna see any retaliation from the SDC after this?" Adam let his finger drum on his holster absently. "A lot of cash going missing isn't exactly a way to made friends with folks like this." Sienna grinned at that, and shook her head.

"Apparently, Romulus and Remus weren't the only ones doing work off the books. Morrison had pulled the funds from within the company, and now has to either replace them with he own resources or find some other way to cover the loss. He figured the profits from the new acquisition would cover the hole. So that's a nice bonus for us to the tune of two million Lien." Her smile faded even as she said it. "Although, it's not the kind of progress I was hoping for. Convoys getting turned over make a lot less noise than a Director getting the shake down. We may see them again further down the road, but it won't be until after Morrison recovers from this debacle."

"You don't sound thrilled about all this." Arthur observed. Sienna stretched her arms above her head, yawning tiredly as her body contorted in way that a normal woman could never do.

"Not terribly. The money is nice, but ultimately our cause had far more to lose than gain with this little gambit of theirs. I know I said we would escalate and take what we need by force, but storming a train for a Director of the SDC is too likely to be spun against us. All it takes is a single reporter to spin the wrong story, and we'll be on the back foot." She blinked, her eyes refocusing on Arthur. "But enough of that. I'm sure you've seen enough of this office for tonight. Come on." She stepped around the desk and grabbed his hand, pulling him to the door before releasing it.

When the door swung open again, there were a few more White Fang members milling about. No doubt they had heard the commotion, and many of them were scowling. No one liked a traitor, and word of the Lupin brothers' scheme must have gotten around. Arthur nodded to Marcus and Illia when he passed them, and continued following Sienna out to the courtyard. They could hear murmurs and yelling from outside, and what words Arthur could make out weren't complimentary.

Outside but within the perimeter wall, a cacophony of jeers could be heard coming from the White Fang. Sentries, builders, and soldiers alike all joined in to mock the departing Lupin brothers. The gathered Faunus yelled things like 'traitors!' and 'scum!', and the two looked around helplessly at those that were protecting them just earlier that day. Before they were discovered for their treachery. The two had some hastily packed bags, and Romulus had a tent that, to Arthur's experienced eyes, wasn't going to survive the journey as poorly stored as it was. The circle of jeering White Fang closed in around the two brothers, who had nowhere else to go besides the outside gate. The path was dark, and the White Fang base was the only safe area for miles. But the great beast would tolerate these fleas no longer.

"You'll regret this!" Remus cried to the howling crowd, his voice a higher pitch than normal. "I'll see you all ruined. Count on it!" While his brother's ire was directed at those around them, Romulus turned and stabbed a finger at Sienna herself.

"Don't think this is over, Khan!" He cried, seemingly emboldened now that he was free from her influence. "The White Fang's reputation will be smeared all over the news after this, I swear it! We helped build you from the ground up, and this is how you repay us?! I'll have you crawling-" Arthur was barely surprised when Sienna's battle chain lashed out, the blade on the end carving a deep furrow from Romulus' mouth to the middle of his cheek. The Faunus spun to the ground, his pack spilling everywhere as he howled in pain. The dirt was stained a dark color as blood fell free from between his fingers, and he cast his shocked eyes back toward Sienna. She flicked her chain and brought it back to her hand, flicking the blade clear of his blood.

"You're right. This is _exactly_ how we repay those that consort with the SDC to betray the White Fang. You disgust me." Once it was clean, she stowed her weapon once more, her expression one of resolution. "Know this, Romulus. You two are a disgrace to Faunus everywhere. May the Grimm hound your every step."

Remus came to his brother's aid, picking him up even as the man cursed and spat blood from his ruined mouth. Casting fearful glances all around, the younger brother could only curse as he led them out into the jungle, and the wooden doors of the White Fang based slammed behind them.

With the Lupin brothers gone, a cheer went up all around the camp. The White Fang were glad that such toxic people had been thrown from their fold, and Sienna allowed them a moment to bask in the camaraderie. All good things, however, had to end.

"Lock it up!" She ordered, ceasing their cries. "With this much negativity in the air, the Grimm will come calling! Show them how we deal with unwelcome guests!" Another cry went up following her words, and quite a few grabbed their weapons and started climbing up into guard positions and observation posts. The camp went back to its normal bustle, and the mood was surprisingly upbeat given what had just happened. Sienna watched them all go at it for a moment, then waved over Adam and Marcus. With Arthur flanking her, Sienna led her commanders back toward her office.

"Come along, boys." She invited over her shoulder. "We've got a mansion to burn." Behind her, Adam smirked.

_"I trust the amount is sufficient?"_ The man spoke, or at least he thought it was a man. Those voice scramblers were a bitch to get past, and he didn't have his recording equipment nearby. He tipped his head and looked over his account, watching the numbers climb to a satisfying amount. Once they stopped increasing, he gave a small grunt of acknowledgment.

"It'll do. And I have to babysit someone along the way?" He wasn't looking forward to it, but it would be far from the first time. Most clients had trust issues and sent along insurance of some kind.

_"Mister Van der Linde is quite capable, I assure you."_ The benefactor said dismissively. _"Though if he becomes too much of a burden, leave him behind. His only real purpose is to confirm the identity of the target."_ That rung a little better in his ears. Nuisances had a habit of working themselves out, but in the Mistralian wilderness he could kill someone and come up with all kinds of stories. If the client was content with losses to start with, it made things easier for him.

"I'll be flying in sometime tomorrow. As long as things go smoothly with this tracker of yours, we should be done by the end of the week. Anything else you need done while I'm here?" He didn't ask out of any concern, but sometimes bonuses liked to pop up in the middle of a job. Besides, he needed a new punching bag. Mercury was starting to fall apart.

_"The task at hand is enough, I assure you. Contact us through the usual channels. You'll receive the rest of your pay then."_ Without anything else, the benefactor signed off. Marcus Black sighed and looked over the scant information he had. Apparently this Van der Linde character would have everything he needed to ID the target. And if it was the same one he was thinking of, Samuel Winchester would pay quite a bit as well.

"Arthur Morgan, huh?" Marcus clenched his fist, and was satisfied when a blade extended from his forearm. "Looks like your time is up, my friend."

* * *

**A/N:** Obviously the heist is upon us, and things won't go the way Arthur wants. Next chapter will have a whole lot of bad shit going down. I looked back and realized that I got my time a little confused. I need to make some minor adjustments concerning Ruby and Yang's age. At this point, we are four years before Volume 1 begins. I made Ruby and Yang seem a little older than I wanted to. It'll be more obvious in the next chapter.

Which...might take some time before it is released. I'm not going to bring current events into my writing, but things are heating up. We've already had some people fly in from Chicago just to stir up trouble. I use my writing as a distraction and a way to entertain people, but now I've got to get my head in the game. No idea when I will start back up, but this looks like at least a month long hiatus. I'm sorry, you guys don't deserve such a thing, but I've got some people I need to take care of. Stay safe and protect each other. I'll see you guys once this shit storm is over.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

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Blake and Illia made excellent scouts. When they couldn't sneak in, they were among the few in the White Fang that could mingle with humans without suspicion. As such, Sienna was able to look at over forty different angles of the Schnee residence. There was even an image of the mansion from above, apparently taken back when it was a trend to get aerial images of larger properties. The Schnee's arrogance was paying dividends for the White Fang.

"Did you see any guards?" Sienna's eyes roamed the images, her mind running at a fevered pace. There were so many things to consider: infiltration, demolition versus defacement, the number of people to send in, exfiltration.

"There were a few, but they never crossed paths once they came on duty. Four at the most. Illia reported five at night. At best we can tell, they work on six hour shifts." Blake dutifully reported. Arthur stood nearby, absorbing the young Faunus' report and considering it from his perspective. In the past, he had always been cautioned by Hosea and Dutch to scope out the targets, get a feel for the plan without alerting the mark. This kind of work was better than the way Dutch had been running things in the end, without Hosea's guiding hand and calming words.

"What about vehicles? Did you see any delivery trucks? A rear entrance, maybe?" Sienna had a small, amateur drawing of the grounds with several arrows pointing toward it. Approaches, exits, possible reaction areas for police or security; all were taken into account.

"There was one truck, and it pulled around the west side of the manor. There's a set of double doors there. It came at night, and Illia got close enough to see the kitchens on the other side. One of the guards stayed near that entrance both night and day." Blake explained, her finger indicating what she described. Sienna made a minor adjustment to the map and circled it.

"We need to enter the building simultaneously." The tiger Faunus placed a few small rocks near that entrance, then a few more at the main door. "The more entrances we can take advantage of, the less time we spend clearing the interior. We need to be long gone before the authorities arrive. I have no intention of parleying with local law enforcement if it isn't necessary." Not to mention that given what they were planning on doing, anyone caught would face some serious prison time. The mining charges that Cain had been putting together would provide a sort of ironic justice. The SDC's failure to protect their workers and supplies would be punished tonight.

"The people you been working with, they have any more information on the inside?" Arthur piped up, earning a look from Adam. The teen sneered, as if the outlaw were somehow overstepping his bounds. Sienna ignored her right hand's reaction and answered Arthur's question for everyone present.

"Those disgruntled Faunus that we've been able to sway to our side have provided limited information. At this point, the only thing we can rely on them for once the operation starts is to help evacuate the manor. I want everyone outside before the charges detonate." She gave Adam a level stare. "Cain will have the primary detonator, but Adam will carry a backup just in case something goes wrong." The message behind her eyes was clear; do not blow our people up. The red headed teen stared her down, then finally relented and looked away.

"Are we expecting trouble?" Marcus asked since they were on the topic. Sienna glanced his way, then looked to Blake for answers. The cat Faunus caught the prompt quickly enough.

"The guards on the property all belong to the SDC's private security force. From what we've seen and been able to overhear, they have a separate living quarters a half of a mile down the south road. It's close enough for them to commute, but still far enough away that we can be gone before they get out of bed." Half a mile wasn't far, but the benefit to running a raid at night was that most people were dead asleep. Aside from the guards on the premises, the only other real threat would be the law.

"Alright. I want Arthur, Cain, and Adam on the entry team. Everyone else will be outside directing the evacuation. Clear everyone out on all floors, and meet at the northern end of the property. We'll use the forest to disappear, and rendezvous back at the extraction point. If anything goes wrong beforehand, we scrap the mission and meet up there. I'd rather try another day than risk what we have built so far. Now, are there any questions?" None of the assembled adults or Adam raised their hands, though she could see Blake meekly holding hers up.

"No Blake, you can't come with us. The situation is too dangerous for you and Illia, and I won't put you in danger until I'm certain you can handle yourselves. There will be another time." Sienna tried to let her down gently, but there was no hiding the downtrodden look on the young Faunus' face. She had run away from home to do something, and yet here she was getting left behind by everyone else. Or at least, that was the way she probably saw it. Adam patted the young scout on the back, but it was clear that she was going to be put out about it.

"Alright. Gather your teams. I want us at the meeting place by dusk. Double and triple check your gear and be ready to move. Dismissed." Sienna leaned back up from the table and crossed her arms, indicating that the rest of them should see to their duties. Adam guided Blake out, whispering something to her as he did. He was likely trying to soothe her ruffled feathers. Marcus followed close behind them, with Cain bringing up the rear. All that left was Sienna and Adam, both of which had prepared before the meeting was called. Sienna was garbed in her ornate uniform from her inauguration as Supreme Leader, whereas Arthur wore his white vest and black dress shirt. He had the Peacekeeper on his hip, but had elected to leave the Deal Breaker with Sienna so that being sneaky would be easier. With her subordinates gone, Sienna relaxed slightly. But only slightly.

"Nervous?" Arthur asked, nudging her shoulder with his elbow. Sienna returned it half heartedly, running a hand through her hair as she looked over the plans.

"It comes and goes, honestly. One minute I think that we have this under control, the next minute I think up a thousand ways this can all go wrong. It's maddening." She cursed her mind's treachery, and Arthur just laughed at her.

"Yeah, the waiting game is a vicious one. Speaking from experience though, I think you've done all you can from here. Leave the rest to us." Sienna had wanted to go on the raid, badly, but it took Marcus and Arthur both to convince her that part of leadership was sitting back and letting others do what you told them. They were dealing with explosives, and the last thing the White Fang needed was to lose its leader thanks to a crossed wire. Sienna was used to hands on leadership, and this kind of thing was obviously killing her.

"You'll watch out for them, right? I know I can't be down there with them, but I feel like sending you is the next best thing." She looked down, not meeting his eyes. "No pressure or anything."

"Well, I'm flattered that you think that way, Supreme Leader. Don't you worry. I'll look after them like they were my own." Arthur promised, patting her on the shoulder. "In the meantime, you need to start working on your speech. Make an impression, Lady Khan, while we go out and handle the dirty work." He pulled a cigarette from his pouch and held it up, but paused when he saw her disapproving frown. Muttering his apologies, he replaced in with his scroll and opened up the map. The coordinates for the Schnee manor gleamed brightly on the circular display, quite a few miles to the north. The only ones he had on his contact list were Cain and Adam, and he could see them clustered up near his own location. It was a handy thing to have, and he almost wished that America had invented handheld devices like this. Of course, that would give all the rambling idiots a way to scream at each other, so maybe it was a blessing that his homeland was so far behind.

"I've made several calls to the Schnee Dust Company headquarters, and they keep routing me through one secretary after another. Either Mister Schnee is _very_ busy, or it's a tactic to get me to hang up." She tapped the papers on the table in front of her with a finger. "Somehow I think that he will answer once the fireworks go off." Arthur could agree with that. The Schnee family patriarch would likely be very interested in what Sienna had to say once news of his mansion's destruction got around. Sienna's expression was still troubled, but Arthur knew there wasn't much else he could do about it.

"We've done all we can to prepare. You might as well come see us off." He waved toward the door. Sienna nodded in agreement, and together the two made their way out of the White Fang base and out into the courtyard, where one of the cargo trucks waited for them. Arthur could still see a few singed places from their fight with the sea dragon, but if Marcus gave it his approval then he would trust it. The big Faunus was a stickler for the little things. Adam and Cain had already loaded up, though the grunts were still running around saying goodbyes and making last minute gear changes.

After a few more minutes, the last of the White Fang had jumped into the back of the truck. Arthur and Sienna shared a final goodbye, a couple of awkward waves as the rest of the White Fang cheered them on, brave soldiers striding forward to change the world. Even if it was dirty work.

The mansion was roughly three hours away from the base, a trip made longer thanks to the poor maintenance on the roads and their desire to conserve fuel. By the time Arthur and the rest of the team reached the rally point, the sun had begun to set. They were ahead of their timetable, but that just meant waiting around in the area they were trying to sneak into. The clearing they had staged the truck in was hidden in the forest, but there was no guarantee that a hunter or wandering traveler couldn't see them. The minutes ticked by slowly, and an uneasy tension settled over those that had been chosen. Arthur would normally pass the time by talking with Adam or Cain, but the two were too wrapped up in what was to come to offer more than a few terse words. So, with the sun setting at the same pace it always does, Arthur found a decently stout stick and began whittling it with his knife, shaping it with the edge of his blade.

By the time he had carved the wood into an imitation of a snarling wolf's head, movement all around the truck distracted him from it. Now that he was looking up, he realized that the sun had completely fallen from the sky. Night was upon them.

"Thanks for letting me know, fellas." He muttered to no one in particular. He couldn't really blame them for their nervousness. Outside of himself, Cain, and Adam, this was the first time the White Fang recruits had done anything like this. To be raised from birth to follow the law and not steal from others, only to dedicate so much time and effort into some serious property damage; Arthur could forgive a little nervousness. And since he felt that he knew her, he could say that Sienna could forgive it as well.

"Alright boys and girls, listen up." He crowed, putting forth more confidence than he actually felt. Image and morale was key here, to make sure that no one got cold feet. "Me and these two uglies are gonna do all the hard stuff. Your only jobs are to make sure everyone makes it out safely and to watch for anyone who might interrupt our little party. Keep your heads, and we'll all get out of here just fine." He gestured toward Cain and Adam, who both nodded at his words. The two redheads were well respected within the White Fang, and many of them knew Arthur as well. Following their lead eased their fears a little, and that would keep the Grimm at bay.

"Alright, keep it quiet from here on out. Until we subdue the guards, I don't wanna hear anything louder than a mouse fart. Understand?" A chorus of quiet 'yeah' and 'yes sir' came from the assembled recruits, and Arthur turned to face the trees that separated them from the manor.

Five guards, along with a variable number of servants keeping the mansion up and running. Two floors and a cellar, and five mining charges to be set in strategic locations. The specifics ran through his head one more time, a silent review, and Arthur's hand dipped into his satchel. He withdrew a forest green bandanna, one he had not worn in months. Ever since he'd been diagnosed with TB, the outlaw had done everything he could to be honorable in his dealings with men, and so far he had been successful. But it did not absolve him of his past sins. And today, those sins would help him.

It was time to be the bad man once again.

With his bandanna tied and his hat placed, Arthur waved a hand and approached the treeline. With the group behind him, the White Fang melted into the bushes.

According to Blake and Illia's recon as well as word from the staff, the guards usually had their shift change around eight at night. If that schedule held true tonight, then the five men guarding the property had been standing around for half an hour, just long enough to get bored. The outliers went first, of course; Cain and Arthur knocked two out with some sleeper holds while Adam struck the third in the back of the head with Wilt's pommel. The man at the kitchen entrance also ran afoul of Adam, judging by the grunt and the thump of a body hitting the ground. Which left the front door guard to Arthur.

Instead of sneaking up, Arthur just walked out onto the driveway, a circular path that had been paved around an ornate fountain. The man on the front porch was walking the perimeter of it, and didn't notice Arthur until he had just reached the bottom of the stairs. When he did so, the man called out.

"Hey! Stop right there!" Arthur complied, holding his hands up with an almost bored air. The security guard, armed with only a pistol, approached quickly and kept his gun trained on Arthur's chest. He wore a dark blue beret and blue fatigues like the others had, with a white snowflake emblazoned on his back. He got within arm's reach of Arthur, which told the outlaw that this man knew absolute spit about fighting other people. Hiring cheap help like this was just another way for the Schnee family to pinch pennies, it seemed.

"State your business here, and take that mask off!" The guard demanded. Arthur just looked at him, cocking a brow that was hidden by his hat, then smacked the pistol away with his off hand. The Peacemaker came out in the other, Arthur cocking the hammer right as he leveled the barrel into the guard's chest.

"I'm here to burn this house to the ground, and make sure that everyone gets out of it first." Arthur replied truthfully. "Fortunately son, that includes you." The young guard held his hands up, and had no defense when Arthur struck him across the face with his revolver. The blow turned the man to the left, and the follow up strike to the temple left him dead to the world. Arthur dragged the young man back toward the yard by his ankles, dropping them and dusting off his hands when he was about twenty yards away. With all of the guards handled, Arthur opened the front doors wide and stepped in, sweeping over the foyer with his eyes.

As expected, the main room of the mansion was as grandiose as it was excessive. Two immense statues guarded a broad staircase, which split at the center landing and climbed up to a white banister. The statues were of two snarling Beowulfs, both of them twenty foot tall and excruciatingly detailed. The landing had a massive portrait of the Schnee family, though Sienna's appraisal of their family bonds seemed to be on the mark. Jacques and Willow Schnee were seated side by side, with their children flanked behind them. Jacques had a hand placed on Willow's knee and was staring straight ahead, his blue eyes piercing and hungry. Willow kept her hands away from her husband's, and her posture and eyes bore a weight that seemed to fatigue her. Young Whitley stood at his father's right, a satisfied smirk on his face. Winter stood in the center and between her parents, hands clasped behind her back and the picture of military discipline. Young Weiss stood next to her mother, hands clasped in front of her as she tried her best to look regal. It was ornate, dignified...and so very cold. Nothing like what a family should be.

Arthur heard approaching footsteps coming from the hallway to his left, measured and even. Not someone in a panic, which meant the others hadn't been discovered yet. The outlaw stepped further into the foyer, his boots echoing off of the polished marble, and made sure that he was easily visible. The man that turned the corner was a portly, balding butler in a white shirt and a dark blue paisley vest. He had brown hair at his sideburns and a thick mustache, which quivered when he saw Arthur standing there like the bandit he purported himself to be.

"Can I help you, sir? I'm afraid the manor is not open to the public." The butler asked politely, though the way his eyes narrowed told Arthur it was only for politeness' sake. The butler continued to approach him at that same pace, and Arthur walked in his direction to meet him halfway.

"I assume you've heard the rumors going 'round?" Arthur tried, hoping that this guy would be one of the 'discouraged men' as Josiah would have called him. What he wouldn't give to have that smooth talking snake here now.

"Yes, I've heard mutterings. Something about the White Fang coming to deface the house that my employer has spent so much time and effort building." The man's eyes changed from light brown to red instantly, and his posture took on a more aggressive edge. His accent became more rough as well. "I've got no time for robbers and bandits!"

"Easy there, pal. There's more than just me runnin' around here. And we ain't here to hurt nobody." Arthur cocked the hammer on the Peacekeeper threateningly. "But that don't mean we won't." Behind the butler, a commotion could be heard, most likely coming from the kitchens. More running feet could be heard, as well as breaking dishes and other sounds of panic. The butler looked behind him, and when he looked back at Arthur his eyes had turned back to a light brown.

"Ruffians! What have we done, to deserve such treatment?!" The butler demanded, holding up his fists as if he meant to fight. Arthur was content to warn the man, but they were pressed for time. The longer they were there, the more likely things would go wrong.

"Oppress the Faunus community as a whole, as well as support laws that keep them from being real citizens. Along with a laundry list of other petty evils. Look, old man; I'm only gonna say this once. Get the hell out of here and let us do our thing. We're here to make a statement, not corpses." The butler's eyes moved down as he considered his words, then up toward the second floor for a second before he looked back at Arthur.

"I have a duty to the young lady, but I won't fight you. Just don't hurt anyone." The butler pleaded, his brow furrowed and his voice hard. Arthur nodded and tipped his hat, then made a shooing motion with one hand.

"So long as everyone gets out of the building, I won't lay a finger on them. Now git, before you get blasted to hell along with all this fancy architecture." The butler turned on his heel and marched away, hurrying while still maintaining a dignified air. It was a skill, clearly, but one that Arthur had no interest in learning. The stout little man bumped into Adam as he turned the corner, and despite their status as burglars still offered an apology before he brushed past. The Faunus ran up to Arthur, his hand resting on his blade as he surveyed the foyer.

"I just spoke with the head cook. Apparently, Weiss Schnee herself is upstairs. That hotel they rented out in Mistral was just a decoy." The teen reported, and Arthur couldn't stop the curse from leaving his mouth. The heiress wasn't supposed to be there, and her presence complicated things. Wasn't she training to be a Huntress as well?

"I'll deal with the girl, you just make sure the rest of the servants get clear. Is Cain working on the charges?" Adam nodded, looking up at the massive sculptures that flanked the staircase.

"He's setting up the first one now. It shouldn't take more than twenty minutes to have them all rigged up. Think you can haul the princess out in that time?" The question came out as an insult, but Arthur moved past that. The kid's grievances had no place in the work tonight.

"Shouldn't take too long. Just sweep the area instead of running yer mouth. I don't want any bodies on this one." With that, Arthur drew the Peacekeeper and started climbing the stairs. Adam watched him go for a moment, then sneered and darted down the opposite hallway. His footsteps faded on the marble floor before Arthur had even made it to the top of the steps.

The upstairs floors were marbled as well, but a thick blue carpet ran down the center. It did well to stifle any noise coming from the foyer, even though he could still hear echoes coming from the west wing. Things were getting louder, and that didn't bode well. _Cain will set up those charges as fast as he can. I gotta focus on little miss Save the World here._ Arthur reminded himself.

He opened the first door he came to, and found a small bar with a grand piano sitting across from it. The next room had a massive table in it and a tapestry of Grimm fighting ancient warriors. The third and fourth rooms were mirror images of themselves, bedrooms with large canopy beds and a magnificent view of the surrounding forest. By the time he reached the fifth room, Arthur was beginning to wonder how many rooms this mansion had.

"How can a house with this many rooms be for so few people?" Arthur muttered out loud, reaching for the crystal doorknob. As he did, a faint rasp of metal could be heard on the other side, and Arthur hesitated.

Before he could do anything else, a black circle sprung up underneath his feet, and Arthur's eyes grew wide as he was thrown into the ceiling. His Aura protected him as he slammed into the ground, and he barely got up in time to avoid another one of the glyphs as it appeared where he had landed.

"Of course! The rich kid wants to be a hero, and she knows damn magic!" He cursed out loud, bringing his foot up. He smashed his way into the bedroom, and had to duck immediately as a rapier tried to pierce his forehead. The outlaw sidestepped another thrust and pushed a third out of the way, backpedaling to get some distance as his eyes settled on his opponent. Sure enough, the young teen from the portrait in the foyer stood before him. Instead of the white vest and dress, however, Weiss was wearing a modest nightgown and was barefoot, though her blue eyes blazed with indignant fury. In her right hand was a rapier, with a multi-colored cylinder that could only imply Dust use. Also unlike the portrait, a somewhat fresh scar descended across her left eye, a blemish that told him she knew how to use that weapon.

"I don't know who you are, but what right do you have to come into my home uninvited?!" She demanded hotly. Without waiting for an explanation, a trio of white glyphs appeared behind her. Judging from the subtle ring that came with each glyph's summoning, more had appeared behind him as well. Knowing full well that she was about to work her magic on him, Arthur was forced to open fire. He aimed for her weapon first, both to knock it off balance and to try and get her to drop it since Aura was harder to focus on the fingers and toes. No such luck, as Weiss was able to block the rounds before she jumped backward onto a spinning white glyph. Using it as a springboard, the heiress came rocketing toward him, her rapier poised to run Arthur through were he not in the middle of rolling out of the way.

"Whoa there, young lady! I know you're upset, but-" Arthur cursed as another swipe and stab interrupted him, causing him to back up into the wall. He dove to the side and drew the Peacemaker, though he kept the barrel pointed downward as he held up a hand. "Wait now, dammit! Just wait a minute!"

The young Huntress in training halted her charge, but she held her weapon steady, ready to continue the fight at a moment's notice. He had to stop this and get her out of there, and quickly. Cain wouldn't take long with the Dust charges.

"Why are you here?! To steal from my family? To kidnap me?" Weiss demanded, her blue eyes narrow with suspicion. "Speak, bandit!"

"We're with the White Fang, alright? We came here to get everyone out of the building so we could, ah," Arthur faltered. There wasn't really a diplomatic way to say this, was there? "Look, we're gonna blow the place up. Not because we want you to get hurt!" Arthur held up a hand again as Weiss' teeth ground together, knowing if she started the fight back there'd be no more room for talk. "It's a bunch of angry Faunus lookin' to blow up a building. The White Fang ain't here to kill no one. Hell, if we were, do you think we'd be runnin' around, getting everyone out first?"

That admission caused Weiss to pause, the tip of her rapier sagging slightly as she considered her words. Arthur kept his Peacekeeper pointed to the side to reinforce his words, and for a moment it seemed like she was actually listening. Her eyes hardened like permafrost, and his last hope for peace died as she adjusted her grip on her weapon.

"So if you won't detonate the charges until I'm outside, then I must delay you until the authorities arrive!" Not...quite what he was going for there. Arthur couldn't help but curse as she thrust forward again, a trail of glyphs propelling her faster than he expected. Arthur threw himself to the side and fired, hoping that the others were having a better time of it than he was.

* * *

Outside, Adam looked out over the gathered employees with a critical eye, noting that many of the uniformed servants were Faunus. It was the primary reason they had come, and why so many had decided to help them with information about the property. Still, knowing the fact and having it presented to him in real time were two very different things. The other White Fang members were gently guiding the employees into a loose group, giving them instructions on what to say when the authorities arrived. They weren't fabricating a false narrative, but explaining to those gathered why the White Fang had decided to make the decisions that they had. When the media descended upon this property come morning, the people before him would be the ones to tell the tale. It was beneficial to make sure that they were informed about it.

The teen looked down at the secondary detonator in his hand, a backup in case Cain wasn't able to set off the explosives for some reason. The Faunus had assured Adam that planting the devices wouldn't take more than a few minutes, but Adam was still uneasy. Every second they spent standing around outside, even in near darkness, was another second that they could be discovered.

As soon as he finished that thought, the sound of crashing furniture and gunshots could be heard from the second floor of the manor. The gathered Faunus gasped and murmured as the sounds of combat continued, a clear sign of Arthur running into trouble. Of course, the one person that didn't carry out their part of the plan would be the human. Adam gritted his teeth and wondered not for the first time why Sienna had trusted the outlaw as much as she did.

The bull Faunus glanced back toward the barracks that the Schnee security forces stayed in, watching for any sign of movement. The barracks was far enough away for the sound to be muted, but Adam would be a fool to think that they didn't have some kind of internal alarm or security system. They were running out of time.

Frustrated, Adam dialed Cain's scroll, his eyes never leaving the bunker as the call rang. Cain picked up on the second tone, though his voice was far from calm.

_"Adam? What the hell are you doing? Arthur's under attack and I still need to place the last charge!" _Cain snarled, and Adam bit back a retort. So Cain was almost finished with the charges, but Arthur was the only other person in the building besides the attacker? That was some good news at least.

"What? Who is the attacker? SDC security?" A few of the other White Fang looked over at Adam, but their concern was fleeting in the face of possible discovery.

_"I don't know! My hands are kind of full and someone called me with stupid questions! Keep everyone out of the manor! As soon as I finish up here, I'm heading upstairs to help Arthur."_ Without waiting for Adam to respond, the demolition expert ended the call. Adam's teeth clenched from the casual dismissal, which did nothing to cool the anxiety building up as the situation worsened. One of the upstairs windows shattered outward in a gout of fire, no doubt brought on by the judicious use of Burn Dust. That meant someone with skill, easily that of a Huntsman or equivalent. And lights were coming on at the security compound.

_Damn it, what the hell do we do?_ Adam thought, urging the gathered servants out of the way of the falling glass and closer toward the treeline. One of the servants, a portly human with balding red hair, was watching the carnage with a look of anxious worry.

"You there." Adam pointed him out, and the man turned to face him. "Who else is in the mansion? Some secret Schnee security team?" The man scoffed at Adam's question, though he still wrung his hands.

"Hardly, young man. The young Lady Weiss was brought here at the last minute, and I presume she does not take too kindly to the destruction of her home." The butler sniffed haughtily. Adam contemplated cuffing the man upside the head for his arrogance, but his words gave the teen pause. Weiss Schnee, heiress to the Schnee Dust Company itself, was here. Inside the mansion they had come to blow up. In fact, the charges were already placed, he was just waiting on Cain and Arthur to escape.

An ugly, insidious thought occurred to Adam. If blowing up an estate built on the profits from Faunus discrimination and exploitation would make a statement, what kind of noise would come from the capture of the heiress herself? Or better yet, if she died in the explosion? The Schnee family would get to experience all the pain and suffering that they had inflicted upon countless Faunus!

Sienna would never allow something like that, not after all that Arthur had done to keep her moderate. Without him, Sienna would have made the call in a heartbeat. The human's influence over Adam's leader was too great, and he knew better than anyone that as long as Arthur Morgan had the ear of the Supreme Leader, opportunities like this would never be fully realized. Without Arthur, she'd be the leader the White Fang needed her to be. And he was inside the same mansion as the damned Schnee herself.

Adam dug into his pocket and fished out the secondary detonator, rigged just in case something happened to Cain. He stared at it, his mind roiling at the choice in his hands. What would Sienna say, if she knew what he was about to do? Her fury alone would raze him to the ground. Unless... unless he didn't tell her. _Arthur and Cain were engaged by the Schnee heiress, and the charges detonated in the battle._ A smile crossed his face even as the story fabricated itself. The White Fang would lose a human that held it and its leader back, the SDC would lose their precious heiress, and Sienna would finally become the monster that humanity deserved.

Arthur had asked him once if he was willing to become a monster created by the SDC. If burning and killing would really do everything he wanted for the Faunus. As he stood there, safety cap flipped up and thumb hovering over the button, Adam realized that it would, given the right guidance. Blind rage wouldn't do the trick, he knew that. But Ghira and Sienna had preached peace for far too long. _Sorry, Arthur. _He thought to himself. _The SDC made me a monster. And it's up to me to make sure that they pay for their mistakes._

Five pounds of pressure, and held at his side where it wasn't obvious for anyone around to see. That was all it took for Adam to secure his place as a monster.

"For the White Fang." He whispered to himself, and pressed the button.

* * *

Cain rushed to drill the two anchor points into the column, cursing the Schnee Dust Company for not using adhesive charges. The power tool whined even as the floor above him shook, Arthur's opponent obviously proving to be made of sterner stuff. The Faunus settled the frame of the charge into the drilled anchors, then connected the power supply for the receiver and then activated the receiver itself. Two lights appeared on the small display, indicating that the charge was armed, and he quickly gathered his tools and prepared to head upstairs. A few more beeps caught his attention, and the color drained from Cain's face as he read the display.

_Secondary activation._ The block letters flashed three times within one second, but for Cain it felt like an eternity. Until eternity came to an end.

"ADAM, NO!" Cain howled in rage, covering his eyes in a futile attempt to protect himself. There was a rush of light and heat, and the White Fang operative vanished in a blaze of heat and force.

* * *

Arthur rolled underneath another glyph, dodging the icicles that Weiss just _loved _to toss around as he fed a speed loader into the Peacekeeper. He pocketed the metal ring as he regained his feet, turning and aiming toward the young heiress as she projected another glyph to stop his rounds. The two stood there, in a standoff, both of them panting from the exertion of their fight. Her Aura was low, and her nightgown had already suffered a few burns and tears. Arthur fared a little better, but he knew without looking at his scroll that he was floating around 40%, maybe more. His vest had a scorch mark over his heart, and there was dirt all over his pants.

"Listen lady, just put the fancy toothpick down and we can get out of here." Arthur pleaded through his mask. "A whole bunch of concrete and wood ain't worth the bloodshed." Weiss continued to pant, her protective glyph spinning slowly in front of her as she regained her strength. He'd figured out during their fight that the circles with snowflakes in the center did all kinds of crazy things, from slow him down to speed her up to shooting ice all over the place. But she also needed to concentrate in order to make them function properly, and a few good hits from his fist and his pistol had been enough to unsettle her.

"It's not just a building to me, neanderthal!" The dainty little heiress spat back. "This is my home! May family built this place, and our servants take care of it. What gives you the right to tear it down?!" Arthur winced, not really having an answer for her right off the bat. It wasn't his fight, he was just here to help Sienna and Adam and the rest. He knew the struggles that the Faunus faced well enough; he'd spent more than enough time talking to the various White Fang members to understand. But it was still someone else's suffering, not his own, that he was punishing Weiss' family for. Still, it wasn't like he could back out now.

"You tellin' me that you got a whole bunch of childhood memories of this place? Does it have a special meaning to ya? Or is it just one of many that you stay in to keep away from the rest of us commoners?" Arthur replied. Weiss' eye twitched, and her gaze hardened. She'd taken that one hard, it seemed. Weiss changed her stance, stepping back with her left foot behind and perpendicular to her right, and Arthur prepared for another round. From the hallway, however, he heard a terrible, enraged cry.

"ADAM, NO!" Cain's voice filled the air, and Arthur glanced toward the door. Cain had been planting the explosives, just like they had planned, but why was he cursing Adam? The teen was still outside, guarding the servants and watching for-

The detonator. The realization hit Arthur at about the same time as the shock wave from the first charge going off.

"That son of a bitch!" Arthur holstered his pistol and started toward Weiss, but both of them staggered as another explosion rocked the mansion, this one closer than the last. Weiss cried out in alarm and covered her ears, but Arthur's attention was downward. The floor immediately became unstable, cracking and giving way as the structural supports Cain had targeted ceased to exist. All around them, plaster and glass crashed and came apart as the walls began to shake, and the mansion started to collapse. They were on the second floor, with no way out and the whole building was coming down fast. He needed more time! The third explosive detonated as he looked around, shaking the room once more and sending a wash of heat over them both. The last would be right underneath them. Cain had set them with a delay to determine how the building collapsed, and Arthur knew he had ten seconds, if that to escape.

The world was bathed in that familiar glow as Arthur activated his Semblance, time slowing to a crawl. He didn't draw his weapon, but rather used his Semblance's unique perception of time to take in his surroundings. Arthur could see the window behind Weiss, and her glyph wavered as the panic began to set in. The floor of her room was already falling down to the floor below, guaranteed to crush them if either one fell. But the terrace outside was still sturdy, away from the center of the mansion. It would fall with the rest of it, but not right away.

Weiss Schnee stood between him and escape, but Arthur didn't have time to side step the girl. He tucked his shoulder and charged, driving his larger frame into the heiress' small frame as he drove towards the only hope of survival he had. He was three paces away from the window when the charge underneath their feet detonated, deafening him and causing a wave of burning agony to fling him out the window, hurtling through the glass and into the night sky.

* * *

The recorded answering machine was beginning to grate on Sienna's nerves, but she knew that it was intentional. The SDC was stalling, treating her like the nuisance they considered all of her kind to be. She'd been on hold with the Atlas branch for an impressive eighteen minutes before they had hung up. The Mistral office must have gotten the memo, because they didn't even answer. At the very least, she was ringing the scroll to death.

_"We're sorry, but all Schnee Dust Company representatives are currently unavailable. We thank you for your patience."_ The polite recording said for the millionth time, and Sienna just groaned and sat the scroll on the table in front of her. The cheesy elevator music continued to fill her office as she slowly slumped in her chair, wishing for all the world that she had gone on the raid with Arthur and the rest. At the very least, she wouldn't be bored. Arthur and Adam proved far too much amusement together, even if the young Faunus genuinely despised her outlaw friend. Adam's mood swings were becoming more subdued, she noticed, but only in the presence of Blake Belladonna. When she _wasn't _there, well... Adam's true irritation shone through.

If the girl had actually removed the anger instead of forcing Adam to hide it, Sienna would have married the two on the spot, Ghira be damned. But for now, it just seemed like Blake's mentor and crush hid his true feelings when the two were together, creating a false image for Blake to admire.

Creating a lie.

Were she not caught up with trying to bring true equality to Faunus across Remnant, that alone would be enough for Sienna to take Adam to task. But for now, his animosity against the humans provided him motivation to keep working for change, so it was a necessary evil. Once they started seeing some progress, however...

As if the thought summoned him, her SDC issued migraine was drowned out for a moment by the chime of a message notification. Sienna sat up, her ears perked as Adam's message played across the top of the screen.

_Mission complete. Will report upon return._ Taciturn as always, but at the very least she knew that her message had been heard. Sienna pushed the call to one side and typed out a response.

_Well done. Complications?_ A series of oscillating dots followed, indicating that Adam was responding, but eventually they stopped without him sending a message. It didn't bode well, but Sienna attributed the interruption to their exfiltration. Even on the best of days, texting in one of the trucks was a rocky endeavor. Finally, the dots returned.

_Will report._ Something about that made Sienna uneasy. If they stuck to the plan, the team was still about thirty minutes out. She was about to text a reply when the horrendous SDC waiting music was interrupted, and not by the automated notification. This time, a face appeared on her scroll. The face of Jacques Schnee himself.

Mr. Schnee was clearly fresh from bed, the collar of his white sleep shirt unbuttoned and his eyes still bleary from rest. His expression, however, was one of barely restrained contempt. Sienna smirked at the thought of the great SDC patriarch, losing sleep because the White Fang had finally gotten some payback.

"Good evening, Mr. Schnee. You're looking rested." Sienna greeted formally, the self-satisfied smirk on her face irking the man even further. His mustache quivered as he clearly restrained himself from speaking his mind, and the SDC mogul cleared his throat and adjusted himself.

_"Good evening, Miss Khan. I understand that you have been on hold for quite some time. I apologize for the delay."_ How formal? The man responsible for most of the modern day discrimination faced by Faunus everywhere was being unusually cordial for being tossed out of bed at three in the morning by one of her kind blowing up his house.

"Yes, it was something of a wait. Why, when I first called, you still had a home in Mistral." Fury bloomed in Jacques' eyes, but once again he controlled himself, albeit barely. Sienna allowed her concern to grow; either she had greatly misjudged the man, or he had far more reason to avoid angering her than she thought. Perhaps he thought that she was trying to kill him?

_"I apologize for the significant delay. Had I been aware of how serious the White Fang was, perhaps we could have come to an agreement sooner."_ Jacques capitulated, pressing a handkerchief to his forehead. He had already begun to sweat.

This was wrong. Something was off here, but Sienna couldn't put her finger on it. Jacques Schnee, the head of the SDC, was making excuses far too earlier in the conversation. He had broken before the negotiations had even started. Still, Sienna couldn't lose her cool. She would attempt to figure out the reason for his unprecedented humility during their talk.

"I'm sure you would like to prevent further events like this from happening. I can promise that, but you must satisfy the White Fang's conditions." She saw a vein creep up Jacques' temple, but the man simply swallowed his irritation and nodded.

_"And those would be?"_ His voice was strained, but he had yet to oppose her at all. Surely he would when she gave him their terms, but it was still noted that this was not the same Schnee patriarch that she had seen staunchly defending his company's policies and labor laws.

"First off, equal pay and benefits between Faunus and human workers. On _all_ levels of management." Sienna began with an arched brow. Jacques waved the first demand off with an impatient nod. Another concession too freely given.

_"Yes, yes. I can have it done by the next board of directors' meeting. What else?"_ Sienna paused, eyes searching his face for any trickery. What was his game? He had rebuked their efforts for negotiations before, and yet here she had roused him from bed and secured an agreement that months of peaceful protest could not. Still, she had to press the advantage.

"Civil liability and responsibility for all workers in the mines, retroactive for past accidents." Sienna was satisfied to finally see a reaction; Jacques openly scoffed at the demand. Which is exactly what she was looking for.

_"Absolutely not! My company employs a vast majority of the Faunus, and paying out for every single incident in the history of Atlas would ensure the rest of them went without a job! We would be ruined!"_ The patriarch snarled, then realized exactly what he had said. He coughed into his hand, averted his eyes as he made the excuse of searching for a handkerchief. _"Such reparations are not feasible, Miss Khan. I hardly think that bankrupting the company that many Faunus work for will be beneficial to your people."_ He was still far more reserved than Sienna expected, but she had finally brought up the inevitable negotiation. If he was going to let her have the upper hand, Sienna would seize it.

"Very well. Then we can start with over the past five years. For all workers, Mister Schnee. If our people receive preferential treatment, the resulting discrimination will cancel out any benefits your company provides." Whether the rest of the workforce was racist or not, offering benefits and restitution to one group of people and not the rest was a good way to cause even more division and could possibly lead to violence against the Faunus. Ultimately a loss, not a win, a one that the SDC could shrug off.

_"That is...slightly more feasible. I will contact my legal team for a list within that timeline." _Schnee finally seemed to reach his breaking point. _"Enough of these frivolities, Miss Khan. They insult us both. What are your demands?"_ That caught her off guard. Was this why he had been so reserved? Because he believed that she had done something else?

"I've already provided you with our demands. I just wish that it hadn't required such extensive property damage. Of course, you never answered my calls before..." There was a loud thud on the other side, and she could see Jacques' fist come down next to the camera.

_"Gods dammit, woman! I don't care about the mansion! I want to know what you scoundrels have done with my daughter!"_ Schnee's face was alight with rage, a greedy man who had lost something precious to him. This, however, was entirely news to Sienna. She couldn't hide the surprise that crossed her face.

"Your daughter? Mister Schnee, what do you mean?" They had been watching the mansion and receiving information from the staff for days before she had ordered the strike, and none of their information had even hinted at the presence of a Schnee at the mansion.

_"Do not play dumb with me, woman! I have heard your demands, but unless Weiss Schnee is returned safely, not a single thing will change! And if any harm comes to her,"_ Jacques' eyes were the color of a glacier, his rage evident behind his faulty attempt at diplomacy. _"I will visit hell upon the White Fang the likes of which you could never imagine."_

Sienna tapped on her desk thoughtfully, letting the threat pass by even though she knew that it was genuine. They were still getting on their feet as a separate entity, and Jacques Schnee was not one to be trifled with. But he appeared to be under the impression that they had taken his daughter hostage, and that was not something she was aware of. Unlike how the call had begun, she was now on the back foot.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up from the scroll to her office door. It opened and Marcus leaned inside, his usual do rag absent and revealing his short gray hair.

"Ma'am, the team is back. You're gonna want to speak to them." Marcus didn't mince words, and from his expression something had clearly gone wrong. The growing knot of apprehension in her gut she had felt since the beginning of the call hardened into concrete at his words. Still, she had to appear in control. Keeping her face neutral, Sienna looked back down at the Schnee patriarch.

"I must speak with my people. I will contact you shortly, Mister Schnee." He protested loudly, but whatever words he had for her were lost as she ended the call. Without his prying ears, Sienna was free to react a little more naturally.

"What happened?" She demanded. Marcus opened his mouth to answer, but the older veteran could only grunt and work his jaw. His eyes danced across the desk for a moment as he considered his next words, then finally met her gaze once more.

"Adam's got a report for you about what went down. Apparently, there were...losses." Another punch to the gut. Sienna blinked, not quite comprehending at first, but she could only grit her teeth and look away. Their first major operation, and already she had blood on her hands. Who had paid the price for her lack of preparation? If she had decided to negotiate after the raid, she could have just gone with them and made sure...

"Send him in. Now." She ordered. Marcus nodded solemnly, and the door closed for a brief moment. Struggling to contain her anxiety, Sienna walked around to the front of her desk and leaned against it, taking a deep breath and releasing it. A knock came at her door once more.

"Enter!" She barked, her arms crossed as she waited impatiently. The door opened and Adam walked in this time, his sword absent. Had he lost it in the raid as well? Just what had happened?!

"Supreme Leader." He greeted stoically, his eyes hidden by that infernal mask he loved to wear everywhere. She nodded in response, her eyes roaming over him as she searched for any indicator of just how this discussion was going to go. She didn't offer him a chair, and so he remained standing.

"From the beginning." She said quietly. "I want you to cover everything that happened and why, to the best of your ability. No sugar coating, no bullshit, no half truths. Understood?" When he nodded, she gestured for him to begin.

Adam gave her an abbreviated version of the raid, detailing how they had knocked out the security personnel and made entry into the mansion. He told her how they had gotten the staff out, and Arthur had gone upstairs. That's when the trouble started.

"Cain had just begun to set the explosives when we heard a fight break out upstairs. Arthur had encountered someone proficient in Dust use, and it caused a loud commotion. Cain tried calling out, but I couldn't hear him over the fighting. Arthur did not respond to my calls, and the guard barracks began to show activity. It was at that time that the charges detonated prematurely, presumably from the Dust being used in the fight upstairs." Sienna didn't need further explanation on their losses, and she had a pretty good idea of who it was Arthur had encountered. Weiss Schnee had announced her plan to become a Huntress publicly, and the daughter of the richest man on Remnant would no doubt receive the best equipment money could by. And if the charges had been detonated early, then it was safe to assume that Cain was gone.

"What happened next?" Sienna's tone was empty, numb at the loss of one of her most dedicated subordinates. Cain had been a good man, one that had applied his knowledge for the betterment of their kind. He would be dearly missed. But her heart beat furiously at the implication in Adam's story. Marcus had said losses, as in plural...

"We circled the mansion ruins as they burned, but no one else exited the wreckage. The authorities were approaching, so we were forced to withdraw. We found no one else." He answered the question she couldn't bear to ask, and there was genuine regret in his voice. Sienna just stared at him.

Arthur...was gone? That couldn't be right. They had a plan, and they had gone over it multiple times. Sure, the Schnee heiress was an unwelcome surprise, but how...how could this have gotten so far out of hand? The tiger Faunus recoiled from Adam, turning away for a moment as she took a deep breath to control herself. Adam did not comment, but simply turned his head away from her. Though to be honest, he could have grown a second head and Sienna wouldn't have cared. The grief and guilt of sending her friend out to his death while she had stayed behind tore at her heart, and Cain's loss was not easy to swallow either. But she couldn't just accept it.

"You saw the bodies?" Her question was low and quiet, but there was no way Adam missed the charged emotion in her voice. He shifted behind her, and she turned back to face him.

"No. We had to leave before the authorities arrived." Adam reported. Sienna slowly crossed the office until she stood directly in front of Adam, her nose nearly touching his styled mask.

"Then get. Back. Out there. I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth until I see evidence." She ordered coldly, then stabbed a finger into Adam's sternum hard enough for the young man to wince. "When you return, we will discuss why you thought it acceptable to leave our people behind, fallen or not." At first, Adam made no move to carry out her orders. He stared at her for a moment, then slowly turned and walked to the door, her gaze burning a hole into his skull as he left. When the door closed behind him, the rage and indignation that had kept her upright fled her, and she sagged against her desk.

Without Adam there to watch her, Sienna let the few tears that slipped past fall to the floor. She'd suppressed her grief and disbelief, but now she knew why Jacques had been so willing to deal with the White Fang and her demands. And if the Schnee heiress had died with Arthur...

Sienna had neither the desire nor the conviction to call him back. Her first major operation, and it had all truly gone to hell.

* * *

Arthur's landing could have been described as 'poetry in motion'. If a mad womanizing Frenchman was describing it, anyway. Arthur himself would have settled for 'train wreck'. The blast blew him and Weiss both out the window, the concussive force hitting them in mid air and flinging them into the woods like a pair of smoking meteors. Arthur's Aura was still at about half, but he had no clue where the heiress' was at. As such, his meeting with a stout oak tree was only slightly jarring, knocking the breath from his lungs as he spun around from the impact, landing in a bush down below. Judging by the sudden stabbing pain _everywhere_, it just had to be a thorn bush.

"Ah!" He heard the gentle ring of a glyph forming somewhere behind him, and then what sounded like glass shattering as the glyph failed to stop Weiss completely as she tore through the bushes next to him, her long white hair sticking out of a thicket. Considering he was in pants and she was in a nightgown and shorts, she had gotten the short end of the stick. About four hundred of them. The heiress groaned in pain and discomfort, and Arthur could only agree.

"Not the best landing." He admonished himself, knowing full well that there wasn't much chance of doing things any different. The two of them were lucky enough to be alive. Arthur floundered from his landing zone, flailing his arms and legs as he struggled to get out of the bushes. His opponent didn't start moving right away, though he was hoping she wasn't so willing to fight this time. Mansion blown up, mission accomplished; there was nothing for her to defend and no reason for him to keep her. If they went their separate ways from here, all the better.

"Ow!" He turned and looked back at her, brushing debris from his shoulders and adjusting his hat. Weiss had managed to free herself from the thicket, but she was clutching her ankle and keeping it gingerly off the ground. When she noticed Arthur, she cried out and stumbled back.

"Stay back, thief!" She cried out, struggling to summon a glyph. Her disorientation from the explosion didn't help the pain in her ankle, though, and the white spinning Semblance faded away after a few flashes. Arthur held up his hands and kept his distance to show he didn't mean any harm.

"Easy there, princess. I told you back in the house; I ain't here to hurt ya. We was just here for the house." He looked past the trees at the burning mansion in the distance, smoke climbing up into the sky. They had been thrown quite a ways, nearly four hundred yards by his guess. Whatever Cain had stuffed into those charges packed a punch.

_Cain..._ The thought of the redheaded Faunus brought a hollow thrum of pain in Arthur's chest, and he felt his rage at Adam come back full force. The angsty little shit had gotten antsy and blown the whole damn thing to Hell, even with Arthur and Cain still inside! There were a few security personnel crawling over the distant wreckage, but from what he had heard prior to the blast, there wouldn't be anything left of his friend. Cain was gone, and it was all Adam's fault. Arthur gritted his teeth and sighed, then remembered what he was dealing with. Mourning could come later; he still had to deal with the heiress.

"Well you certainly took it, didn't you?! My home is destroyed! And for what? Because you were mad at my family?" Weiss demanded, still leery of his as she placed a hand against a tree to steady herself, looking very out of place in her light blue nightgown amid the trees and dirt in the dark forest. Well, dark except for the floating red orbs in the distance.

_Oh no._ Arthur cursed and his hand flew to his belt, drawing his hunting knife and darting forward. Weiss cried out in alarm, throwing up her hands in defense as he approached. He ignored her and moved past the flailing heiress, driving his hunting knife downward through the skull plate of a Beowulf that had crept up behind her.

"All that damn negativity." He groused, twisting the knife and pulling it free. The Grimm slumped to the ground with little more than a whimper. Behind it, however, Arthur could see that the trees were rustling. And there was no wind to speak of.

Blowing up the Schnee mansion had made a colossal explosion, and there were villages here and there that would have heard it. A loud explosion was never good, and brought with it fear, confusion, and uncertainty. All delectable treats for the creatures of Grimm.

"Listen here princess, I know you ain't done being cross with me, but we gotta get outta here." He gestured toward the beast that was disintegrating as he sheathed his knife, kneeling beside her. "You gonna be able to move on that ankle?"

Weiss wrinkled her nose at the idea of his help, but she couldn't fault his reasoning. The forest began to move around them, and she knew her options were limited. The heiress struggled to stand up, but the pain in her joint was too great. It already looked like it was starting to swell. Had her Aura been full, it would be healed by the time she walked back to the mansion. But after her fight with Arthur, it would take longer to heal. And without someone to watch her back, the Grimm would make short work of her in the wild.

"If I had my scroll, you would be behind bars." She seethed, but took his offered hand anyway. Arthur hoisted up her slight weight and kept an arm around her back, holding her up off of her left side while also trying to preserve her modesty. The grasping sticks and branches they had plowed through on their descent hadn't done her sleepwear any favors.

"Yeah well, it wouldn't be the first time." Arthur waved off her ire. "Come on, I know somewhere close by we can hide for a spell. After the Grimm die down, we can get you back to your family." The rustling continued, and Arthur let his hand fall to the handle of his knife once more. Even so, he gently guided Weiss forward into the trees, angling toward the clearing where the White Fang had first met up prior to the mansion job. There had been a fallen tree and some underbrush near one corner of the clearing, and he figured familiar ground with cover was better than trying to find a random spot in the woods.

Gunfire could be heard from the Schnee property, and Arthur assumed that the security detail had started to see the Grimm approaching. That ruled out the SDC as well; in order to get to the security team, they would have to wade through Grimm to reach Weiss' protectors. Plus, he had just been seen assisting in blowing up the manor, so Arthur doubted that conversation would go well. If he just shoved her toward them and went his own way while her ankle was messed up, she was as likely to be mauled by monsters as she was to be shot by mistake.

"Oh, I see. Mass destruction of private property is fine, so long as you're not murderers as well?" Weiss snarked. Somehow, waking up in the middle of the night to find intruders in your home made someone cranky. Doubly so, if those intruders blew up said home.

"Quit acting like it was that personal, princess. How long have you stayed in that place, in all your years? Ain't your home in Atlas?" Weiss puffed up and had a snide remark ready to fire back at him, but another pair of red eyes silenced them both. This time it was a Boarbatusk, and its loud snuffling was sure to bring more Grimm. Arthur leaned forward and drew his knife once more, leaning Weiss against a tree as he put some distance between them. If the thing charged him while he was supporting her, the only way he could kill it would be to go loud, and the last thing they needed was to attract attention, Grimm or otherwise.

"Here, piggy piggy." Arthur taunted lowly, swiping his hat in front of him to entice the creature away from Weiss. Its beady eyes looked over the limping girl for a moment, and Arthur reminded himself that Grimm relied as much on negative emotions as they did sight and sound. Weiss had just lost her home to burglars, so she probably wasn't in the best of moods.

_I really gotta stop riling people up for kicks._ Arthur focused on his anger at Adam and let the memory of Cain's last words play through his head, feeling his ears flush as the rage returned once again.

The Boarbatusk reacted instantly, snapping its head toward him as if he had whistled. The Grimm began to snort and dig into the ground with its forelegs, getting ready to start rolling and charge him. The moment Arthur was waiting for came immediately after: whenever Boarbatusks charged, they rolled up into a ball to gain momentum. The first step of doing that required the beast to lower its head and hop upward, both giving up leverage and exposing its soft neck. Arthur dashed forward, using his Semblance to facilitate a precise strike. His eyes flashed gold as he stepped forward and to the right, stabbing downward as the Grimm passed. The blade sunk into the back of its neck flawlessly, and Arthur let go of the handle to keep his wrist from being sprained.

The Boarbatusk squealed and tumbled to the ground, its charge interrupted as it immediately began to disintegrate. Arthur walked over and pulled his blade from the creature, watching curiously as the Grimm's blood ebbed away as well. He sheathed it and turned around, seeing Weiss stare at him with wide eyes.

"What?" He asked, holding his arms out expectantly. "I can't just shoot 'em. We'd be up to our ears in critters." Weiss rolled her eyes at his unrefined language, but she pushed off of the tree and tested her ankle. Judging by the muffled curse, it still wasn't healed yet.

"I don't understand why you're protecting me like this." She replied honestly. "If you are with the White Fang, wouldn't it serve you better to leave me to the Grimm? You know who I am, don't you?" Arthur scoffed and walked up beside her, offering his elbow for her to grab. She was still reluctant about it, but the stubborn heiress eventually relented and used it to support herself.

"I know it's hard to believe considering what we just did, but the White Fang don't wanna hurt anybody. Not physically, anyway. They're just tired of protesting and doing things peacefully. You had years to listen to them with they were saying 'please' and 'thank you', so don't get upset when they try something else." He explained, holding a branch out of the way so that the two could get through before he released it.

"That's what I don't understand. Why not just leave me to die in the forest? The SDC loses an heiress, and the White Fang get to claim the notoriety. I imagine that my father and the rest would be far more willing to hear your demands then." Weiss realized what she had just said and held up the hand that wasn't wrapped around Arthur's forearm. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. I'm just trying to understand." Arthur sighed and looked around, trying to roughly gauge where they were at. If they had been thrown out the southern window, then they were relatively close to the clearing. They could hunker down there until the fighting died down, then he would send Weiss on her way.

"Because then we'd just be a bunch of monsters. Ain't no reason to go around and killin' without cause." Arthur chewed on the irony of that, considering how he'd spent many of his younger days doing exactly that. "If big daddy Schnee just listened to them, we wouldn't have gone through all this trouble to turn your fancy house into a crater. But that don't mean we're out to kill anyone. There's still that line that we haven't crossed." Or at least, that had been the plan. Adam had blown the plan to hell along with Cain and everything else.

"I suppose I can understand their frustration." Weiss allowed. "But I can't condone them just destroying property like that. We employed many Faunus in running that home, and paid good wages! I know father can be a little...negligent at times, but the company has helped a lot of Faunus." She defended halfheartedly, though Arthur could tell by her voice that she didn't entirely believe it. From what Sienna had gleaned from the tabloids, Weiss didn't exactly agree with her father's policies. But she wouldn't dog him out in front of a stranger like Arthur, and the outlaw found that he could respect that.

"Providing the only job available just lets you set the terms. If people have to decide between a piss poor deal and starving, you know which one they're gonna take. But," He sighed again. "All that is on your pa, not you. You may benefit from him being the way he is, but it's just like any other kid and their parents. Can't really fault you for it." Sienna might have had a more complex thought on it, but Sienna wasn't there. The second he had time, he'd be giving her a call. If Adam was following the plan, it would take them some time to get back to base.

More rustling and growls could be heard in the woods, but the gunfire appeared to be tapering off. With any luck, the fighting would be over in an hour or so. Arthur found the clearing a few minutes later, and he helped the heiress hobble her way toward the fallen tree in his mind. There was a small pond within the alcove provided by bushes and brambles, but there was enough dry ground for the two of the to sit comfortably away from one another. Once Weiss was settled on the ground, massaging her ankle with a pinched look on her face, Arthur slumped against the tree and let his head fall against it. In the distance, the two could hear the fighting between the Grimm and the SDC security forces, and for a time that was the only sound that passed.

Eventually though, Weiss had to break the silence.

"I must admit, you're not what I expected when I first met you." The heiress allowed, testing her foot. She still winced when she put her weight on it, but it looked like the Huntress in training could at least run if she really had to. While they rested, her Aura must have replenished a little.

"Ha!" Arthur chuckled. "You have a lot of expectations for masked men that kick in your door and blow up your home?" the teen rolled her eyes at his remark and scoffed.

"Not what I meant. And thank you for bringing that back up." She sniffed, before schooling her expressing into a far more curious one. "No, most impressions for the White Fang involve actual Faunus. How did you get mixed up with them?" Arthur arched a brow at the way she said it, but figured she wasn't being racist about it. It was a fair question to ask.

"I met 'em in Vacuo, shortly after a really big fight. Most of the people I grew up with died, and I didn't have much to go on. The Supreme Leader of the White Fang took me in, gave me some work with security." At Weiss' expression, he chuckled. "Yeah, I was surprised myself. But you know why she did it? She said that I was the first human to have a conversation with her without lying to her. I guess that's all it really took."

Weiss' gaze dropped as she thought about how the citizens of Atlas and Mantle treated the Faunus, remembering no small number of workers and servants that had been dismissed for trivial reasons. Her father was a glutton for power and excess, even if she didn't want to admit it. It was why things were so cold within the family.

"That does seem odd for the leader of a group that blows up mansions." She remarked dryly. "But why did you stay with them? Especially if they blew you up too? This isn't exactly Vacuo." She gestured around at their little hiding spot. Arthur's expression soured immediately.

"The _boy_ that blew us up has got a lot of hate for your company, miss Schnee. It's branded on his face." He held up to fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Literally. He has hates the SDC more and more every time he looks in a mirror. And over time, that hate grew to encompass humans in general. He never really liked me joining up. The man that died in the explosion, Cain, me and him both tried to get this kid sorted out. But hate like that just burns and burns until there ain't nothing left." Arthur pulled out his scroll and opened it, cycling to Sienna's picture. He was just about to tap it when more rustling could be heard, this time behind them. Weiss stood up awkwardly, still favoring her strong foot, and Arthur let his hand drop to the Peacemaker. If the Grimm had backed off, then she was safe to make a break for the mansion. He just had to deal with whatever was creeping around first.

"Stay down." He instructed quietly, and Weiss nodded hesitantly. Arthur peeked over the log, his eyes searching the darkness for any signs of Grimm. There were no chirping birds or other animals rustling about, so the silence both helped and hindered him. It let him listen, but it also said that the threat hadn't gone away.

Arthur was about to slide back down behind the tree when a hand reached out from the side, gripping him by the collar and hauling him over. Arthur let out a yell of surprise as he crossed the tree, landing in the grass on his back. He reached for his gun and struggled to back away, but an ominous click above him stayed his hand. Arthur looked up at the man before him, and when he saw who it was he turned as pale as a ghost.

"Hello son. Miss me?"

* * *

**A/N**:Back off of hiatus...partially. I had been thinking how to do this chapter, and I deleted more than I wrote before I finally settled on this. I wanted Arthur to have a positive impact on Weiss, but we all know that she has a lot of growing to do between Volume 1 and the current season. I tried to play off of that without getting to corny, so I had to used the messed up ankle trope. As for the ending, next chapter is going to have a vicious fight and we will see the fallout of Adam's decision. Until next time.


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